


To Stand On My Own

by Dunedain87



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, I feel like I should tag it as character death, I really am, I'm a horrible person, Keith angst, Lance Angst, Lance whump, Not Really?, Yikes, but like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-07-03 16:03:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15822273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunedain87/pseuds/Dunedain87
Summary: A mission gone wrong leaves Lance the prisoner of a ruthless Galra Commander with an unfortunate name, and Keith a stowaway aboard his ship.Takes place during season two. Sort of an AU, I guess. Not really. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)





	1. Chapter 1

          Lance stood with his back to Keith as he unlocked the door in front of them with his hand. Lance’s rifle was trained down the empty hall. An explosion from below them in the cargo bay rocked the ship. Shiro and Hunk were doing their job well. Pidge was outside with the castle, distracting them, and preparing to receive the manifests that Lance and Keith were responsible for sending to the Green Lion.

          “One hell of a diversion,” Keith mumbled as the Galra ship shook again and the door hissed open. Lance agreed.

          “Let’s just send that manifest to Pidge and get out of here.”

          Keith didn’t argue as they made their way down the hall. The normally purple-lit walls were tinged red from the flashing warning lights. Keith grabbed Lance’s arm and pulled him against the wall. Lance heard the sound of a Sentry’s metallic footfalls. Keith pulled out his bayard, but Lance shook his head as he hefted his rifle. Keith raised his eyebrow, but Lance just rolled his eyes. He could take out one Sentry without having to engage. Keith nodded, lowering his bayard.

          Lance took a deep breath. He listened to the footsteps, judging its location. He visualized the height of the Sentry in his mind, and took one step out from the wall. Without hesitating, and before the Sentry could even register that Lance was there, Lance pulled the trigger, the blast landing right in the middle of its face. It stood still for a split second, giving Keith time to grab it before it hit the ground. He grunted under the weight.

          “Little help?”

          Lance grabbed the other side, and they set the robot down gently, trying to make as little sound as possible. Their part of the mission was entirely reliant on stealth. If any Galra knew they were here, it would all be for nothing. Shiro and Hunk were trying to steal the cargo out of the hold, posing an immediate threat to the ship. They were only a distraction. Lance and Keith’s job was to steal the manifests and shipping schedules. They had no idea what the cargo was on this ship, but if they could steal the manifests and shipping schedules, they would know exactly which ships to target. They just couldn’t let the Galra know they had taken them, or else they would alter the schedules, and the information would be useless. So far, they were doing good, but something was bothering Lance. He knew that most of the Sentries were down in the cargo bay, but there still wasn’t much resistance. Maybe he should just be grateful, but nothing they did as Paladins of Voltron was easy.

          The two of them stopped in front of a massive silver door. Lance nodded, turning his back to Keith to watch the halls. Having a teammate who was part Galra had its perks. Lance knew that it wasn’t without implications, but the team hadn’t really talked about it. In his mind, Keith was still the same annoyingly talented Keith, only now, he could interface with Galra tech. The lock buzzed and the door hissed open. Lance caught a glimpse of the screen, which flashed a red symbol once. He wondered if it was supposed to do that. Would the lock recognize Keith as an intruder?

          “Hey, Keith,” Lance said, quickening his pace to walk beside him.

          “What?”

          “Just, I don’t know. Be careful. Something feels, off.”

          Keith nodded as they crept into the room slowly. Keith’s sword materialized, and he held it in front of him. The room was large and circular, with a control station in the center. It was completely deserted, which, again, seemed strange. The control station seemed a lot larger than any other ones Lance had seen. Keith walked up to it, and put his hand on the sensor.

          “Welcome, Red Paladin,” it said with a low, metallic voice. Lance’s heart jack-knifed in his chest. They knew. “You will never leave this ship.”

          There was a whirring sound from inside the control station, but Lance had already sprung into action, shoving Keith out of the way. There was grinding sound as a panel at the bottom of the control board opened and a metal clamp flew out, wrapping around Lance’s leg and pulling him towards the station. Lance smacked into it with a grunt. Keith jumped to his feet and stared at Lance.

          “Come on! Get this thing off of me,” Lance practically shouted, panic beginning to rise. The clamp was growing tighter, and it was starting to hurt.

          “Okay, okay, just let me…” Pidge’s voice interrupted Keith.

          “Where are those manifests? We don’t have any more time.”

          “Working on it,” Keith huffed. “We, uh, ran into a situation.”

          “What kind of situation?” Pidge asked.

          “I’m currently clamped to a control board in the middle of a Galra ship,” Lance answered for Keith. Keith ran to the door, locked it, then slashed the controls with his sword. He ran back to Lance’s side.

          “So, get the clamp off,” Pidge said.

          “Oh jeez, why didn’t I think of that?” Lance quipped, laughing tensely.

          “We’re working on it,” Keith said as he crouched down, trying to figure out how to get it off.

          “Uh, guys?” Hunk’s voice sounded in their helmets.

          “What is it? What’s wrong?” Keith asked. Lance flinched as another explosion rocked the ship, jarring his trapped leg.

          “This isn’t a cargo ship.”

          “What do you mean?” Pidge cried. “It has the exact layout.”

          “Yeah, I know, it’s just, uh,” Hunk tried to explain.

          “This ship is transporting prisoners,” Shiro interrupted.

          Lance and Keith looked at each other. This mission was getting seriously complicated.

          “What are we going to do?” Lance asked after everyone was silent for a minute. “We can’t leave them.”

          “We didn’t come prepared to rescue prisoners,” Keith countered. “We weren’t even going to steal the cargo.”

          “But they know we’re here now, Keith. The manifests will be useless. I don’t think we should,” Lance sucked in a breath as the clamp tightened again, “leave empty handed.”

          “Shiro, what do you think is the best course of action?” Keith asked.

          “You’re both right,” Shiro started. “Pidge, can you use your cloaking to get the Green Lion to the cargo bay?”

          “I think so,” Pidge answered.

          “Okay. Hunk and I will open the hanger doors so you can land inside. The prisoners are being kept on the deck above, so you’ll have to blast a hole though. Taking all the prisoners from one to deck to the other would be too risky.”

          Lance cried out in pain. The grinding sound from inside the control board came again. Keith leaped out of the way as another clamp shot out, then retracted back in.

          “Lance, is everything okay? Are you hurt?” Shiro asked.

          “Not yet. I’m stuck to the control board.”

          “Oh. Keith, Lance, I know you can figure it out. We’ll need you down here as soon as possible to protect the prisoners.”

          “I’ll contact the castle and let them know what’s changed,” Pidge offered.

          “I know this isn’t the original mission, but I also know we’ll be fine. We’re Paladins of Voltron. Everybody stay sharp, and keep your comms on.”

          There was a chorus of yes sirs as everybody got to work.

          “How do we get this off?” Keith asked Lance. Lance shrugged.

          “Maybe there’s a button.”

          Keith stood over the control board, his hand hovering above it. He pressed something, which only caused the clamp to tighten more. Lance groaned.

          “Sorry.” Keith tried another one, and another, and another, but nothing would release the clamp. In frustration, Keith slammed his fist into the control board. Lance screamed as electricity pulsed through the metal around his leg. Keith flinched and apologized again.

          “Watch what you’re doing man.” 

          “Just because I’m part Galra doesn’t mean I know how to use their tech.” Keith threw up his hands in exasperation. “I don’t know what else to do.”

          “Try your sword.”

          “No way. I’d cut your whole leg off.”

          “You don’t know that. Have a little faith in yourself.” Lance smiled, and Keith laughed before rolling his eyes.

          “What if I cut the clamp out? I don’t think I could get it off your leg, but I’m sure Coran could figure something out.”

          “It’s worth a shot.”

          Keith materialized his sword, but before he could do anything, there was a pounding at the door.

          “Hurry,” Lance pleaded. He did not want to be stuck to this control board when the Galra broke through.

          “The Galra wanted me as a prisoner,” Keith said, and Lance could barely contain his fear.

          “Now is not the time to ponder your self-worth, Keith.”

          “They needed me alive for something. Lance, play dead.”

          “Why? Why would I do that?”  
          “Just, trust me, okay. If they think you’re dead, they’ll probably remove the clamp.”

          “Probably?” Lance sputtered. “That’s a huge risk for ‘probably’.”

          “I’ll stay behind here, but I’ll be ready if anything goes south.”

          “Keith if you leave me I…” Lance stopped talking and flopped onto the ground, biting his cheek to keep from screaming. He was very thankful for his armour. Keith vaulted over the control board as the door flew open, crashing onto the floor. Lance heard the footsteps of about a dozen Sentries. He forced himself to breathe shallow, hoping that his armour would hide any movement. He felt footsteps by his head. He heard a Galra’s heavy breathing. Lance felt his body seize up as the clamp tightened again, fire shooting up his leg. A small groan escaped his lips. His heart began to race as he felt a clawed hand close around his throat. His eyes flew open as he felt himself lifted from the ground. He was greeted by the square face of a Galra. The Galra sneered at him before dropping him back to the ground, twisting Lance’s leg painfully.

          “Not the Paladin I was hoping for, but you’ll do.”

          Lance’s blood froze. They had been expecting them, but how?

          “How did you know we were coming?” Lance asked, trying to get some information. He hoped Keith knew what he was trying to do. The Galra leaned down, so close, Lance could smell his rotten breath.

          “I didn’t, but all my ships are equipped with the data to recognize your Red and Black Paladins. I suppose you already figured that out though, seeing as my trap caught you, not the red one. I’m assuming he’s nearby. Sentries,” the Galra commander gestured to his robot troops. “Search the room.”

          Oh no. Lance was still stuck, and Keith was about to be found. Lance was starting to get the feeling that he wasn’t going to make it out of here. If he could keep their attention on him, it might give Keith the chance to escape. Then he could get the others for backup. Lance materialized his bayard and pointed the rifle at the Galra commander. He was in an awkward position, but the Galra was close enough that he wouldn’t have any trouble making the shot. The Galra raised his fist in a gesture that told the Sentries to stop moving. They trained their weapons on Lance again. He could feel his heart in his throat, but he did not back down. From the corner of his eye, Lance’s saw Keith crawl out from behind the consol. Lance forced himself to remain focused on the Galra. Lance didn’t want to be left behind, but he knew Keith would figure something out. He had to believe that.

          “You wouldn’t shoot me,” that Galra commander said. Lance didn’t know if he could. Could he kill someone? If it came down to protecting Keith, maybe. Lance wasn’t sure. There had to be another option. Lance took a deep breath, and fired six rapid-fire shots, each one causing a Sentry to fall to the ground. In the time it took Lance to fire the shots, the Galra commander had closed the distance between them. He smashed a button on the control board, causing electricity to flood through Lance’s leg. He screamed as his body convulsed. Every movement jarred his leg, sending even more pain shooting through his body. The electricity stopped, but Lance couldn’t stop his body from shaking.

       Through the haze of pain, he saw Keith standing between him and the Galra commander. He wondered why Keith hadn’t left. More Sentries would be on their way. Keith raised his sword, pointing it at the Galra’s throat. The Galra just smiled, or whatever passed for smiling on a Galra.

      “Your friend couldn’t shoot me. Why would you?”

      “I’m not my friend.” Keith charged forward. The Galra whipped out two curved scimitars. The blades met with a ringing clash. Lance knew Keith could probably take the Galra, but not along with the remaining six Sentries. Lance raised his rifle with shaking hands that hadn’t yet recovered from the after-shocks. He fired on the Sentries, using at least ten shots just to take them all down. Lance turned his attention back to Keith, who shoved the Galra, but Keith was at a serious weight disadvantage. The Galra shoved Keith backward. He took a step back, and was now standing beside Lance.

      “Keith, you need to go,” Lance pleaded.

      “Yes, go. Leave your friend,” the Galra goaded.

      “Like hell,” Keith snarled. The Galra just smirked as he blocked Keith’s strike. Lance raised his rifle, but he couldn’t shoot the Galra without the risk of shooting Keith. The Galra swept Keith’s legs, causing him to fall hard beside Lance. The Galra pointed his sword at Keith’s throat. Keith scowled, but didn’t move. This was Lance’s opportunity. He raised his rifle, and pointed it at the Galra. Nobody moved for a tense second that seemed to stretch forever. Lance finally found the courage to say something.

      “Let Keith go.”

      “Or what?”

      “I’ll blast that grin right off your face, that’s what.”

      The Galra pointed both scimitars at Lance instead. “The escape pods are down the hall and to the left. One Paladin is prize enough.”

      Keith adjusted himself to a crouch. “Lance,” he started to say.

      “Go now, before I kill the Blue Paladin.”

      “You’d be dead too,” Keith snapped, slowly rising to his feet. The Galra only smirked again and pressed his scimitar to Lance’s throat.

      “Victory,” the Galra pressed the tip of the blade into Lance’s throat just enough to puncture the skin, drawing a small trickle of blood, “or death.”

      Lance couldn’t help the small whimper that passed through his throat as he flinched away from the blade. Anger, hot and bright, flashed across Keith’s face as he slowly backed towards the door.

      Lance watched Keith where he stood in the doorway. Just leave already, he wanted to tell him. Get out of here. Find the others, form a plan. Don’t put yourself at risk any more than you have to for my sake, he thought. Shiro’s voice echoed in Lance’s helmet.

      “Where are you? The prisoners are ready to go. We need to leave. The hanger is swarming with Sentries.”

      “Keith is on his way to you. Get Green out of there,” Lance said. He locked eyes with Keith, trying to keep the fear from his face.

      “Wait Lance, what about you? Lance? Lance!” Lance heard Hunk’s voice faintly as the Galra used his blade to pull the helmet off Lance’s head. It fell the ground beside him. Lance swallowed hard as fear began rolling through him. The Galra allowed his blade to drag along Lance’s cheek, stinging Lance’s entire face. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

      “Keith, go,” Lance shouted, trying to prevent his voice from shaking. Keith looked at Lance, his eyes filled with pain. Lance knew he didn’t want to leave. Lance didn’t know if he would be able to in Keith’s position, but if anything happened to Keith, Lance wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, not when he could’ve done something to save him. Keith shot a glare at the Galra before disappearing down the hall. Lance took a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

      Could Lance kill the Galra commander? Not before he drove his scimitar through Lance’s throat. Besides, he was still stuck, with no discernible means of getting unstuck. The only thing he could do now was stick it out and wait for a rescue.

      “Commander, an escape pod has just jettisoned. What are your orders?” A rough voice came from the control board. The Galra stood up, and held a button on the board.

      “Shoot it down.”

      “No!” Lance screamed, sheer terror flooding his body. He pointed his rifle, but before he could squeeze the trigger, the Galra slammed a button, sending shocks through Lance’s body so intense, he could no longer grip his rifle. It fell to the ground, along with Lance’s convulsing body. It hurt, it hurt so much, and it wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t it stop? Through all of it, only one thought pounded inside Lance’s head. Keith was dead.

      And it was his fault.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, chapter two. Jeez I'm a horrible person. Poor Lance. Anyway, hopefully, this chapter helps make it a little better.

          “Where’s Keith? What’s going on?” Pidge demanded as soon as the Green Lion landed safely in the hangar.

          “Keith said he was coming. He’s probably taking one of their escape pods,” Shiro assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

          “What about Lance? Did he get out?”

          “I-I don’t know. Can you contact him?” Shiro hated not knowing. He hoped Lance and Keith were okay. They made a great team, and whatever happened, he knew they could handle it, together.

          “Shiro?” Allura’s voice came through his helmet. “Get to the bridge, now.”

          Shiro didn’t hesitate, grabbing Pidge’s arm and pulling her from the seat. Hunk was in the cargo hold of the Green Lion, attempting to keep the prisoners calm. When he saw the urgent look on Shiro’s face, he said something a pale green alien with a large set of antennae. He followed the other two Paladins, concern flooding his features. They sprinted through the castle, panting when they finally made it to the bridge.

          “What’s wrong, Princess?” Shiro asked.

          “We’re receiving a transmission,” Allura explained.

          “From the Galra ship,” Coran finished for her from his place at the control screens.

          “Put it through,” Shiro said. Maybe, they could figure out where Lance and Keith were. They could not leave without them.

          Coran nodded, his hands zipping across the screen. The large screen came to life. On it, was a tall, square-faced Galra commander. Beside him was what looked like an operating table. There was a person on it, and as the table was angled up, Shiro’s heart sank to his toes. He felt his fists clench as repressed memories fought their way to the forefront of his mind. Operating tables, syringes, and Galra faces leaning over him flashed in his mind.

         Allura gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Pidge cursed, and Hunk wrapped an arm around her. The person on the table was Lance. His arms and legs were strapped down. He was still in his Paladin armour, which Shiro was grateful for at least. Shiro looked around at his team. Allura had tears in her eyes. Shiro moved beside her. She grabbed his arm, grip so tight it was painful. Shiro appreciated it though. It kept him grounded, reminded him of what was happening right now. Right now, his team needed him. Allura’s grip on his arm tightened when the Galra commander spoke.

         “I am Borok,” he said, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by the sound of Lance’s laughter.

         “I’m sorry, Borok? Man, your parents must have hated you,” Lance snorted.

         “Excuse me?”

         “Well, where I’m from, parents don’t usually give their kids such cruel names.”

         “Lance, what are you doing?” Shiro muttered under his breath. Didn’t he know what his situation was? That kind of talk was only going to get him punished. It hit Shiro then like a sack of bricks. Lance always masked his insecurities with humour. One look at Lance’s eyes, and Shiro knew. He was terrified. Lance was scared out of his mind, but he wasn’t going to let the Galra see it. Shiro felt a small surge of pride for his Paladin, but it was quickly destroyed by the rising fear of what Borok would do to Lance.

        “How is it such a small, pathetic creature has such a large mouth?” Borok backhanded Lance across the mouth. Lance’s head whipped to side, his eyes squeezed shut in pain, but he didn’t cry out. He turned his head back to face Borok, and spit blood at him. Borok jumped back in surprise, scowling. The scowl disappeared as quickly as it appeared and was replaced by a forced grin. The sight of it set Shiro on edge. Borok pulled a large scimitar from his belt. Lance’s eyes widened at the sight of it. Borok laughed, a sick, twisted sound that made Shiro’s blood boil. Borok took his blade, and placed the tip under Lance’s knee. A weak spot in the armour. Lance’s face tightened in pain. Shiro could no longer feel his hand. Allura’s grip was causing him to lose circulation, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else seemed to matter except what was on the screen. Borok twisted his blade.

         Lance screamed.

         Shiro’s gut twisted itself into knots. He felt ready to throw up. Lance’s whole body was tense, straining against the straps that bound him to the table. Borok pulled his blade away, and after a moment, Lance’s body fell slack. He was breathing heavily, tears running down his cheeks.

         “Oh, Lance,” Allura breathed.

        “Why don’t you tell your friends what happened?” Borok implored. Lance’s face fell, and he hung his head, his whole body shaking. Shiro’s heart sank even further, if that was possible.

         “Keith,” Lance choked back a sob. “Keith is dead.”

        “No,” Allura cried. Shiro felt the world begin spinning.

         No, no, no, no, no, that wasn’t possible. Keith was in an escape pod or something. He was on his way to the castle. He would get here and they would come up with a plan to rescue Lance. They couldn’t do it without Keith. He wasn’t, he couldn’t be…

         “I’m sorry,” Lance’s voice was so small, so filled with pain. “It was my fault.”

         “No,” Shiro said, taking an unconscious step toward the screen. “Don’t blame yourself, Lance. Please.”

         It took Shiro a moment to realize Lance couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t care.

         “Now that you are without your Red Paladin, I don’t suppose you need the blue one either.”

         “Princess?” Coran asked, his voice gentle. “Princess, the Galra ship is moving to jump to hyperspace.”

         “A distraction,” Pidge said, confirming what Shiro already suspected. “How much time do we have?”

        “Five dobashes before they make the jump.”

         “Can we shoot out the engines?” Pidge asked. Coran shook his head.

         “We have no idea where they’re keeping Lance. Firing on the ship is a huge risk.”

         “Get to your lions,” Shiro commanded. The three Paladins took off sprinting. Shiro reached the hangar, Black roaring when she felt his distress. Shiro sat in the pilot seat, mind racing and heart pounding. He felt Black’s calming presence in his mind. Whatever had happened, they were going to fix it together. Black shot out of the hangar. Shiro steered her towards the smoking ship that was moving away. “Come on, come on.” He urged Black to go faster. They were almost there…

         “No!” Pidge screamed, Green Lion coming to a halt beside Shiro. The ship was gone, leaving nothing but a purple trail behind it.

         Shiro stared numbly at the space where the ship had been. If he had only been faster, smarter, more alert, this wouldn’t have happened. Lance would be safe, and Keith, Keith would be here too. Shiro felt tears stinging his eyes as anguish welled up inside of him. Keith was gone, and Lance was at the mercy of some horrible Galra. Shiro had let that happen. He was supposed to be the leader. He was supposed to protect these kids. They were just kids. How could he have let this happen?

          He hadn’t realized he’d gone silent until he felt Black’s presence in his mind, calming and stoic, guiding him back to reality.

          “Shiro, what do we do?” Hunk asked, his voice filled with fear.

          Shiro took a deep, shaky breath. “Head back to the castle. Let’s regroup, and come up with a plan.”

          “Okay, okay,” Shiro heard Pidge say, but she sounded far away. Everything seemed distant, everything but the horrible reality of the situation. Shiro could allow himself to hope, against all odds, that Keith hadn’t been killed. Maybe, just maybe, the Galra only said that to throw them off, to further their distraction. Could Shiro allow himself to believe that? If anyone could find a way to survive, it was Keith. He’d faced impossible odds before. They all had. Shiro took a deep breath. They wouldn’t know what happened to him until they found Lance and brought him back safely. Right now, that was their priority.

          Shiro found himself saying all of this, back on the bridge of the castle. He had a fuzzy recollection of getting there, of landing Black and making his way here almost solely on autopilot. Standing in front of his friends, his family, he felt weaker than he ever had in his life. He needed to be strong for them. Hunk and Pidge had been crying, their eyes red and swollen. Pidge had buried herself in Hunk’s side. Hunk had a protective arm around her. Shiro looked around at his team. What were they going to do?

          “Paladins? Shiro? Come in.”

          “Keith!” Shiro cried, nearly weeping with relief. He was alive. Keith was alive. Coran’s face lit up, and he leaped to Shiro’s side. Shiro pulled his helmet off and held it between them so Coran could hear as well. “Keith, what’s going on? Where are you?”

          “We’re in hyperspace, I don’t,” static, “how long,” static. Shiro looked at Coran.

          “The comms in the helmets weren’t designed for long distance.”

          “Keith, listen. If you can, find Lance, and stowaway somewhere. We’ll talk to the prisoners and figure out where you are. Just hang tight.”

          There was a burst of static before Keith said “Copy,” and the comms cut out completely. Shiro put his hand on his forehead, trying to process everything. Keith was alive. He was on the ship. He was alive. Shiro’s breathing grew steadier, and the pounding in his head was subsiding. Keith was alive. He was okay. Shiro actually laughed. A breathless, manic laugh.

          Shiro turned to face Hunk and Pidge. They stared at him expectantly. Shiro felt hope blooming in his heart. Keith was alive. He kept repeating that fact to himself, assuring himself that it was real and true. Keith was alive. He was going to help them rescue Lance, and everything was going to turn out okay.


	3. Chapter 3

         When Keith found Lance again, they were going to have a serious discussion about trust. Lance was far too trusting. Keith knew there was no way the Galra was going to actually let him leave. Most likely, he’d shoot the pod down. Keith didn’t know if he could out-maneuver a laser in a flimsy little escape pod. He used the screen to unlock the escape pod. He pressed the launch button, but before the doors could close, he jumped out, rolling when he hit the ground and springing to his feet. He heard the escape pod jettison behind him. He glanced up and down the hallway. It was deserted, most likely, the crew was preparing to go to hyperspace. His haunch was confirmed when the ship lurched violently. No doubt, the damage it sustained wasn’t doing it any favours. He took off, sprinting down the hall, attempting to contact the Paladins before they ship moved out of range. Keith used his sword to pry open a supply closet. It was filled with foul smelling cleaning supplies, but they probably wouldn’t look for him here. He tried contacting the Paladins again.

          “Keith!” Shiro answered. Keith filled him in on the situation. Shiro told him to find Lance and wait for a rescue. Okay, simple enough. Keith could handle that. Keith would find that stupid, self-sacrificing, over-trusting idiot. First, he needed to explore the ship, find supplies and a place to hide. It wouldn’t do him any good to break Lance out and not have anywhere to go. Keith took stock of what he had on him. His bayard, his armour, his luxite blade. That was it. It was supposed to a quick in and out mission. He was uninjured, and uncaptured. Most likely, the Galra thought he was dead. They had no idea he was aboard. He needed to use this opportunity to gather some food and find Lance. He didn’t know how long it would take the Galra to find him. Okay, first, he needed to find a secluded place to camp and keep supplies.

          Green had blasted a whole in the roof of the cargo bay. Chances were, the Galra weren’t going to use it until it was repaired. That would be a good place to start. It was also near the prison deck, so maybe he could search for Lance there. He pried the door open and glanced out, scanning the halls both ways. He ducked back in as a Sentry passed by, heading to the left. He started a timer from his armour. Keith stood, ear pressed to the door. Six and half dobashes later, he heard the metallic sound of an approaching Sentry. He waited another six and half dobashes to confirm his pattern. After the Sentry passed, be pulled the door open and slipped into the hall. Keith made his way down the hall, following the Sentry to the left. If he could stay in between their rotation, he might be okay. Keith figured that the upper decks where he was would be patrolled by Sentries, and the Galra here were most likely navigators and crew. The prison guards would be in the cell block.

          Keith pressed himself against the wall as the Sentry he was following unlocked an elevator and got on. He looked at his timer. Five dobashes before the next Sentry arrived. He knew the prisoner deck and cargo bay were below. Could he risk using the elevator? He didn’t think so. It was too much of a risk. Four dobashes now. Keith scanned the door, and saw a ventilation shaft above it. He could use the vent, and cut a hole through to the elevator shaft, then ride the top down. Three doboshes. Keith ran at the door, using his jet pack to launch him up to the grate. He grabbed onto it with both hands and pulled backward, placing his feet on the wall for leverage. The grate popped out, and Keith landed on the ground with as much grace as he could. One and half dobashes. The Sentry was too close for him to risk using the jet pack again. Instead, the grate in one hand, Keith jumped, grabbing the vent. His feet were a couple feet off the ground as he threw the grate into the vent and pulled himself up after it. There was barely enough room for him to twist around, but he managed, and pulled the grate back into place. He saw the Sentry coming down the hall through the bars.

          Keith held his breath, heart pounding in his chest. The Sentry never paused, going straight to the elevator. Keith let out a breath. He turned around and began crawling through the vent. There was bend to the right, where the vent must go around the elevator shaft. There was another grate, which meant Keith didn’t have to use his sword to get through. That was a relief, because he didn’t know if he could use his sword in such a tight space. He pushed the grate out, fumbling as it slipped from his grasp and fell down the shaft. He counted four seconds before impact. Out of the dark, the sides of the shaft began glowing purple, and an elevator began rising. It was a few inches away from the sides of the glowing walls. That’s what was moving it. It explained the lack of pulleys, or any other rope system. Keith wondered if it used magnets.

         The car rose past him, and Keith jumped out of the vent, using his jetpack to slow his descent. He recalled the layout of the ship that Pidge showed them before they left. The cargo bay was at the bottom, three decks below where Lance and Keith had been. Keith passed one door. Then another. He could see the floor he needed below him when the sides of the shaft started glowing. He turned off his jetpack, falling down the shaft. The car was getting closer and closer. Keith grabbed the top of the doorway and flung himself in, between the car and the wall, the car scraping his armour. He pressed himself into the door, body shaking with fear and adrenaline. When the elevator passed, he allowed himself to breathe again. That was way too close.

          Keith glanced up the shaft and spotted another ventilation grate. Keith launched himself to the far side of the shaft, and pushed off, using his jetpack to propel him to the grate. One hand holding the bars of the grate, Keith used his other to summon his sword and stab it through the metal to act as a handle. He pulled the grate out, and climbed in, pulling his sword out. He didn’t bother putting the grate back on. Who was going to see inside the elevator shaft anyway? He crawled through the shaft, pausing when he could see through the grates. He waited until he saw a Sentry, and started his timer. It was only two dobashes before the next one, and after that, one and half, when he saw a Galra. The Galra wouldn’t have as rigid as of a pattern as the Sentries. Keith figured his best chance was to stay in the vents. It was a pain in the ass, but nobody on board was looking for him. Keith sighed, and began crawling through the vents.

           Keith tried to make as little noise as possible, but that was difficult with his armour. He paused whenever he heard footsteps. As he suspected, the Galra had variations in their patrols of about a dobash. The Sentries were all two dobashes apart.

          Keith looked out a grate and saw where Pidge blew a hole in the deck. It was smoking still, and deserted. The ship wouldn’t have the materials to repair it, and it was a hazard. The area around it had been hastily roped off. Finally, a bit of luck. This was the perfect place to lay low and figure out a plan. Keith dropped down from the vent and ran to the hole. As he suspected, the floor was thick, about four feet, and there was a small alcove inside. It was partially blocked by debris, but inside, other than busted scaffolding, was hollow. Keith grabbed a metal pipe that jutted out and swung himself inside. He shoved some debris back, and used his sword to slice the scaffolding, creating a clearing of about four feet by four feet. It wasn’t much, but he should be safe here. Okay. He needed to find Lance, bust him out and somehow get him to his new hideout. All without being seen. If the Galra spotted him, he would lose his only advantage. Keith climbed out of his little hole and pulled off his armour. He shoved it into the alcove, moving a piece of debris in front to block it from sight. If he was going to be in the vents, the armour didn’t do him any favours.

         The area around was still, thankfully, deserted. Keith guessed that they were using an alternate hallway to get around. Keith jumped up, jamming his luxite blade into the metal to act as a handle. He pulled the grate off, climbed in, grabbed his sword, and pulled the grate in place behind him. Okay. Now, he just needed to find where the prisoners were supposed to be kept. Chances were, since Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge had freed them, there wouldn’t be as many guards. Keith paused, looking through each grate. Here in the cell block, the guards had a much more rigid pattern, and there were almost no Sentries. The vents actually went behind the cells. That was great. If Keith could find Lance, he could get him out through the vents.

          When Keith checked what must’ve been the tenth grate, he finally found Lance. Keith’s heart skipped a beat. He was alive. Lance was sitting against the left wall, his head resting on the wall, his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. He didn’t have his armour anymore, and his hands were cuffed behind him. One of his legs was propped up, and was shaking slightly. The fabric of his under- armour around that knee was stained brown. Blood. At least it was no longer bleeding, whatever happened. Lance’s cheek was swollen around a large cut that stretched from the bridge of his nose to his jaw. Keith hated seeing Lance like that. That Galra was going to pay for what he did. Keith shoved against the grate, but yelped in pain and surprise when sparks flew out and his hands were shocked. It was electrified.

          Lance’s eyes shot open and a look of panic flooded his face before he could tamp it down. His eyes scanned the cell until they landed in the grate. Lance’s face lit up.

          “Keith!”

          “Shh,” Keith responded, shaking his hand, as if that would get rid of the pain.

          “I thought you were dead,” Lance explained, struggling to his feet. “Borok blew up your escape pod.”

         “Yeah I know, also, Borok? What kind of name is Borok?”

         “I know!” Lance cried in exasperation, flinching with the movement. “I’m just glad to see you Keith.”

        Keith couldn’t help but smile a little. “Are you okay? Did Borok hurt you?”

         Lance forced a smile. “It’s nothing. I’ll be okay. You worry about yourself.”

          “Lance…”

          “You should get out of here. He’ll be coming back soon.”

          “I can’t leave you again,” Keith argued.

          “You have to. I’ll be okay.”

          “No, here, I’ll cut a hole in the vent, and…”

          “He’s coming back, get out of here,” Lance interrupted Keith again.

          Lance returned his spot at the wall. Keith crawled back slowly, as quietly as he could. The cell door hissed open, and Keith watched as Borok sauntered in, flanked by five other Galra and a dozen Sentries. Why on did he need so many soldiers to deal with one prisoner?

          “Paladin,” Borok stated in greeting.

          “Jerk,” came Lance’s reply.

          “How eloquent.”

          “ _Gillipolas,_ ” Lance spat in return. Keith recognized the Spanish swear. He had heard Lance it on rare occasions, mostly at inanimate objects. Borok seemed to understand the meaning. He scowled. Borok grabbed Lance’s cheeks, his claws digging into his skin, and pulled him to his feet. Keith felt his body tense. He had to do something. He couldn’t leave Lance here, not at the mercy of this monster. Keith pulled out his luxite blade to stab through the metal. His blade sliced through, making a horrible grinding sound as he pulled it out.

          Not the best move, he admitted to himself. Borok turned his attention from Lance, allowing him to drop to the floor. Borok’s eyes swept the room, trying to find the sound. Lance’s eyes widened, he knew Borok would figure it out. Keith held his breath, cursing himself. Suddenly, Lance launched himself up, headbutting Borok in the chin, sending him reeling. Lance swept the legs out from one Galra, then ducked as two made a grab for him, sending them barreling into each other. The two remaining Galra hesitated slightly, allowing Lance to slide between them. He threw his body into the nearest Sentry, sending it crashing into the two Sentries next to it. The remaining Sentries trained their guns on Lance as the two Galra he slid past jumped on him from behind, pressing him into the ground. Lance struggled against their grip until Borok stood beside him. He leaned down and pulled a pistol from his belt. Keith wondered how many weapons he had on him. Borok wiped blood from his mouth and shot a dart into Lance’s neck. His body tensed up before he slowly stopped moving.

          Keith watched, hopeless and hating himself, and the guards dragged Lance’s unconscious body out of the cell.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter gets a little dark. Poor Lance. Why do I do this? Anyway, feel free to let me know what you think :)

Lance’s everything hurt. His face was throbbing, his leg was burning, and his head was pounding. Opening his eyes used more energy than he had to spare. The room was dim, which Lance was thankful for. Even his eyes hurt. His throat was parched, and he tried to remember the last time he ate or drank anything. He had some food goo before he left for the mission. Hunk was busy with preparations and hadn’t cooked, Lance didn’t trust Coran, or himself, for that matter. Last time he tried cooking…

Stop, stop, he told himself. Your mind is wandering. Keep your focus on the present, he reminded himself. He could almost hear Shiro’s voice in his head, telling him to remain calm, assess the situation, and come up with a plan. Okay. Lance was in a cell, smaller than the one he was in before, and this one didn’t have bars. His eyes scanned the room, and there were no vents.

Keith! Oh man. Was Keith okay? Had he gotten out safe? Lance tried to cause enough of a distraction to let Keith slip away. For a moment, he actually thought he might get out. Then there was weight pressing on his back, and a needle in his neck.

Lance realized that he couldn’t move his arms or legs. He scrunched up his face with great difficulty. Was he tied down? Lance glanced down at the rest of his body. He was just laying on the floor. The Galra must’ve given him some kind of tranquilizer. Panic flooded Lance’s veins as his heart pounded in his ears. If they came back while he was like this, he’d be completely defenseless. Lance managed to flop his arm onto his stomach, but his limbs just wouldn’t respond to him. The only time Lance had felt this helpless was when the castle locked him in an airlock. Lance felt his chest tightening. He couldn’t breath. Had the tranquilizer affected his lungs? He was going to suffocate and die and there was no one even around to see it. He was here alone and he was going to die. Lance felt a sob building in his throat.

Deep breaths. He was a Paladin of Voltron. He was not going to die in a dirty old cell alone. Breath in, and out. Lance repeated this, watching his chest rise and fall. In, out. If he went down, he was going to go down fighting, not like this. Lance swallowed, the action burning his throat.

“Ah. I see the sedative is wearing off. I must admit, it didn’t last as long as I was anticipating,” Borok crooned as he strode in confidently. Lance’s blood boiled at the sight of him, but he couldn’t help but flinch away as Borok leaned down. He was alone this time. Lance could see two guards standing at the open door. He could barely wiggle his toes, so he was in no shape to make an escape attempt. He would just have to stall until the sedative wore off enough. Borok grabbed Lance’s wrists and pulled them above his head, lifting his body off the ground. Lance’s arms were beginning to burn, but he kept his face numb. If Borok still thought he was under the affects of the sedative, he could use it to his advantage.

Lance bit his cheek to keep from crying out as Borok’s claws dug into his wrists. He kept his arm steady, not allowing even a flinch. Lance’s toes were no longer touching the ground. He was eye level with the towering Galra. Borok studied him with yellow, cat-like eyes.

“Your species has proven to be remarkably resilient. No matter how hard they tried, the druids could not break Champion. Your Black Paladin. Has he taught you well?”

Lance didn’t answer. It sounded like Borok was fishing for information. Lance was not going to oblige him. He would never betray his team, his family. If it was Keith or Shiro, they would’ve found a way out and taken out the whole ship by now. Pidge would’ve planted some computer virus or something, and Hunk was more cautious and stronger than he was and never would’ve ended up in this situation to begin with. Lance would have to do what he did best. Cause a scene and distract people with his good looks and charm, hopefully long enough to escape.

Lance’s arms were really burning now, and the feeling was coming back to his legs. Borok dropped Lance, and he let himself flop onto the ground. He sucked in a sharp breath. That hurt.

“Humans, as I’ve been told you are called, are fascinating creatures. I hope you don’t mind if I perform a couple,” Borok smiled maliciously, “tests.”

Lance’s heart began to pound. He did not want to find out what kind of “tests” this monster would run in the name of science or whatever. He would like to remain un-dissected.

“Do I get to study? My test scores at the Garrison were awful,” Lance said, voice hoarse.

Borok grabbed Lance’s shoulders and leaned him against the wall. He pulled a metal canteen from the back of his belt. “Thirsty?”

“No way.”

Lance could feel his mouth watering though as Borok shook the canteen, causing the liquid to splash around.

“That’s a shame.”

“I don’t need anything from you.” Lance didn’t even know what was in there. The Galra had probably pumped it with some horrible drugs or something awful. Lance knew now that he couldn’t trust anything that came from this monster.

“Really, that’s too bad. For this to work, I need you to drink what’s in here. Think of it as,” Borok paused, mulling over his words. “Studying.”

Borok didn’t even give Lance a chance to reply before shoving one hand over Lance’s nose while using the other to pry his mouth open and dump the contents of the canteen down his throat. Lance completely forgot about acting numb as he clawed at Borok’s arm, desperately trying to free himself so he could breathe. Borok put his hand over Lance’s mouth, forcing him to swallow the thick, bitter liquid. It burned his throat going down, and Lance felt tears running down his face. Borok moved his hand away, and Lance gulped down air for a split-second before the canteen was shoved between his teeth again. Borok didn’t stop this time until Lance started choking. He tipped the last of the canteen into Lance’s mouth with a disinterested expression. He kept a hand on Lance’s nose and mouth until he stopped gagging. He grabbed a rag from his pocket and tied it tightly around Lance’s mouth. The rough fabric stung the corners of Lance’s lips.

“In case you try to throw it up,” he sneered. Lance wanted to come back with a smart comment, but all he could think about was how much his throat and lungs burned. Borok just smirked as he used a pair of cuffs that were dangling from his belt to cuff Lance’s hands together in front of him. “Thank you for your cooperation. The stimulant will take effect immediately. Oh, I could’ve injected it, but this was far more fun.”

Lance wanted nothing more than to punch Borok in his stupid smile. This beast was just getting a kick out of him. Lance hated him, more than he’d ever hated anybody. At least it was him though. At least it had been him and Keith on the stealth mission, and not any of the other Paladins. Lance knew Keith would be okay, and everyone else was looking for them right now. Lance could take it. He had to.

One of Lance’s legs was curled up near his body. Lance kicked Borok hard in the gut, sending him sprawling back. Lance jumped to his feet, head spinning, but his body was buzzing. Probably because of whatever Borok made him drink. As Lance made a break for the door, he felt himself pulled back. He slammed into the wall and crashed to the floor. Borok stood over him.

“As I anticipated. The stimulant has returned you to full strength. Perfect. You will be alert then for the tests.” Lance’s stomach dropped as Borok pulled a small black box out of his pocket. He pressed something on the side of it, and a small blue flame sprung from the top, like a lighter. Borok held the flame close to Lance’s face. He could feel the heat on his cheek. Lance dove to the side to get away. Borok growled. “It appears that this, environment, is not functional.”

“Good. That’s what I was going for,” Lance spat, despite his gut telling him there were worse places to be.

“Soldiers, it’s time to move the Paladin to cell number one.”

Lance’s stomach curled into knots. He didn’t like the look of glee on the Galra soldier’s faces as they came into the cell. Lance ducked and rolled under the arms of one Galra before driving his shoulder into the stomach of another and slamming him into the wall. He heard the sound of a gun loading before Borok cursed and told the other Galra to stand down. Lance was about to run out the door when he felt something cold around his ankle. He looked down to see the Galra that he had knocked to the ground clamp something around his ankle. The clamp was attached to a glowing purple rope, and the Galra stood up and pulled, sending Lance crashing into the ground. Lance flipped himself so he was on his back, staring down the Galra who was holding the rope. The Galra’s eyes narrowed, and he flicked the rope, sending shooting pain down Lance’s ankle. He flinched, and felt his leg shaking involuntarily.

When Lance tried to scramble to his feet, the Galra flicked the rope again, and Lance felt his leg give out from under him. The two Galra soldiers grabbed Lance’s arms roughly, and dragged him from the cell. Lance struggled against their grip, but it was too strong. They pulled him down the hall and into another cell. Lance wanted to cry as soon as he lifted his head up. There was an operating table in the center, and along the right wall was a rack of terrifying medical instruments. Lance was grateful for the gag, because he probably would’ve screamed at the sight of large poky sticks and painful looking drills and needles.

The Galra soldiers hoisted Lance on to the table and strapped him down, flicking the rope one last time for good measure. Lance’s screams were lost to the fabric around his mouth, but not that it mattered. No one was around who cared anyway. He couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Borok untied one of Lance’s arms and held it up, tracing his claw along the blue veins in Lance’s forearm. Lance tried to pull his arm away, but Borok only tightened his grip.

“Humans have such frail skin. I can see your blood vessels. This part of the body must be highly sensitive.”

Borok pulled out his lighter box again and held the flame to Lance’s forearm. Lance groaned in pain as the skin around the flame began to glow red. His arm flinched, and Borok pulled, hard, jarring Lance’s shoulder, earning a muffled cry. Lance’s legs were kicking at nothing with what little movement they had. Borok pulled the lighter away just as the skin was starting to blister. Lance was breathing heavily, trying to pull in as much air as he could without using his mouth.

“Now, I’d love to move on to some other things, but you have a nasty business of trying to run away.” Borok strapped Lance’s arm back to the table. The burn was exposed, and screaming with pain. Lance’s mind drifted to the first time he tried baking, and he burned that same part of his arm pulling the tray from the oven. Veronica had to calm him down and give him an ice pack, and some ice cream to help him feel better. There would be no ice packs or soothing voices right now though. Lance was tough. He would be okay. “Don’t worry, I have a solution.”

Borok pulled Lance’s gag down, and Lance gulped down air greedily.

“Oh, I have a solution. You could let me leave.”

Borok laughed. “You are truly clever, Paladin. I have already informed Lord Zarkon of your presence here, and of the death of the Red Paladin.”

Lance remembered he was supposed to be sad. As far as Borok knew, Lance still thought Keith was dead. Lance let more tears run down his face, which wasn’t hard to do. Lance’s arm was still in agony from the burn.

“If you let me leave, I won’t tell Zarkon. You can just tell him I used my awesome ninja skills to escape.”

Borok barked out a laugh. “Desperate, are we? How about we go with my plan.” Borok grabbed Lance’s chin.

Lance’s body was vibrating, from fear or whatever Borok made him drink, he had no clue. Borok grabbed canteen from a shelf beside him. He popped the lid and took a swig before forcing the rest down Lance’s throat. It tasted even worse the second time. Lance’s head began to buzz, the buzz turned into a pounding until his entire face was aching. Whatever that stuff was, it was a lot stronger than caffeine.   

Borok took one of scimitars from his belt, and sharpened it with his claws. Lance flinched away from the sound, like nails on a chalkboard. Normally, he could handle noises like that, but the stimulant must have made him hyperaware of everything. The noise grated on his ears, and Lance shut his eyes, trying to block the sound. Lance breathed in relief when Borok finally stopped and stood up, swinging his blade haphazardly. He stood on Lance’s right side, blade hovering inches from Lance’s leg. Lance wanted, more than anything, to pull his body away from Borok, but he just couldn’t move. His muscles bulged, but he was trapped, helpless as Borok raised his blade.

“How poetic would it be for the leg of Voltron not to have one of his own?” Borok smiled.

Lance’s heart was about to burst from his chest. No, no, no, no, please, no.

“You know what would really be poetic? If you let me go now,” Lance cried frantically. “Please?”

Lance hated how weak and pathetic he sounded. Would any of the other Paladins beg for mercy? No.

The blade came down, and Lance screamed, but it didn’t matter.

There was no one around who cared. Lance was on his own.

And would be for a long time.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got my act together enough to finish this chapter. It's a little shorter than the others. Anyway, feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think! Feedback is always apreciated

“Keith is alive,” Hunk said in disbelief. “He’s okay, and he’s on the ship.”

“That doesn’t do us much good without a way to contact him,” Pidge said, leaving Hunk’s side and walking to her station. She began furiously typing, lines of code flashing across her glasses. “If I could hack their communication systems, I could use it to boost the signal to Keith’s comm, but I don’t know if I could reach him without a physical patch…”

          Hunk tried his best to listen as Pidge rambled on about the possible ways they could contact Keith, but he couldn’t focus on anything. His mind kept drifting to Lance, possibly being tortured right now, and Keith, in danger, alone, probably fighting for his life…

          Hunk shook his head. “I’m gonna go, uh, to the kitchen.” Hunk left the bridge, not waiting for a reply. He walked down the hall in a daze. The kitchen was were he felt safe. Everything would make sense. Hunk unlocked the door to the kitchen. He put his hands on the counter to support his weight, because his legs no longer could. Hunk hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut to keep from crying. He kept running everything through his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Trying to figure out what he could’ve done better. Finally, the tears fell, one after another. Hunk had thought Keith was dead. Lance, he looked so convinced. Chances were that Lance still thought Keith was dead. He’d have no way of knowing. Hunk didn’t want to think about Lance, about the torture he may be enduring right now.

          Hunk wiped his eyes with his sleeves and walked over to what passed a fridge for Alteans. He pulled it open, and grabbed a handful of small purple things that resembled beets. They had a chocolatey taste, and worked well for hot chocolate. Hunk figure he could make some for the prisoners that they had freed. Mostly, cooking help calm him down, and he desperately needed to clear his head.

          He put the beet things on the counters and grabbed a large knife. He crushed them with the flat of the blade, like garlic. One after the other, he crushed them, using his weight, pouring out his anger onto the stupid alien food. He smashed the knife down, at just the wrong angle. The beet thing was launched from the counter and flew across the kitchen, right towards Allura. She ducked as it flew over he head. Hunk’s eyes widened as he began to apologize.

          “Having a little trouble?” she teased, raising one eyebrow. “I figured you could use some company,” she continued, her tone more somber.

          Hunk took one look at the concern in Allura’s features before the tears started again. Allura crossed the kitchen to him and folded him into a hug. Hunk leaned into her, grateful for her presence.

          “I should’ve done more. I should’ve fought harder, been faster.”

          Allura pulled away and held Hunk at arm’s length. Hunk noticed that her eyes were red.

          “Listen to me, what happened, it is absolutely by no fault of yours. Things often happen beyond our control. The team needs you. You help keep us together. We will rescue them both.”

          Hunk nodded, wiping his eyes. “Thank you, Princess.”

          “Now, can I be of assistance?”  
          “Sure. What do you know about cooking?” Hunk asked as he finished crushing the chocolate beets.

          “Not much,” Allura confessed.

          At Hunk’s request, Allura pulled out a pot and set it hovering above the Altean stove. Hunk dumped the chocolate beets in and added some milk that they kept in the fridge. Hunk instructed Allura to stir it while he gathered an armful of spices.

          “It gets super gooey if you don’t stir it.”

          Allura nodded, and focused all her attention on the pot. Hunk sniffed one of the jars in his hand. It smelled close enough to cinnamon. He sprinkled some in.

          Just then, Shiro entered the kitchen, followed by Pidge, and Coran. Hunk smiled. Together, they finished the hot chocolate and carried it down to the castle’s ballroom, where the uninjured aliens were staying. Coran and Shiro had already set the injured aliens up in cryopods.

          Coran precariously balanced a massive stack of mugs, while Hunk followed behind, holding the pot of hot chocolate. As Shiro ladled out the drink, they listened to the aliens’ tales, how they ended up on the Galra ship, what plants they came from. Most horrifying were the recounts of the ship’s commander, Borok.

          The aliens with more severe injuries were in the infirmary, but Hunk saw some horrible wounds. Missing limbs, jagged scars, unseeing eyes. Hunk suppressed a shiver as he thought about the horrible things Borok could be doing to Lance. From what Hunk heard, Borok dissected and tortured his prisoners in the name of science. Hunk wanted to vomit.

          Unsurprisingly, not many of the aliens wanted to talk about their trauma. Hunk couldn’t blame them, and he was selfishly grateful. He looked out at the tortured aliens, but all he could see was Lance. Hunk felt his legs wobbled before Coran put a hand on his shoulder.

          “You alright, Number Two?” he asked. Hunk nodded, steadying himself. He needed to be strong, for Lance.

          After the two dozen or so aliens had all gotten a mug of hot chocolate, Hunk sat down and talked with a grizzled looking blue and black alien. Despite his appearance, Uhl, as he introduced himself as, was rather soft spoken. Uhl was describing his planet to Hunk, before it had been overrun by Galra. Hunk wanted to get right to the point and ask about Lance and Borok, but he knew these aliens were likely traumatized, and needed patience and support.

            “Oh, you should’ve seen it. Rolling fields, towering trees. There was no where like it in the galaxy.” Uhl sighed. “I used to be a king, you know.”

          “That’s amazing. What, what happened?” Hunk inquired, hoping he wasn’t pressing.

          “The Galra needed our resources, so they took them. My planet, we put up a fight, I’ll tell you that.” Uhl chuckled fondly. “We knew it was hopeless though. The Galra captured the capital, destroyed my planet, and planned to use me as an example to my people of what happens when you refuse to bow down. That is, until you rescued us.”  

          Hunk felt a small glimmer of pride and hope. “The Galra have hurt a lot of people.”

          “Including your friend.”

          Hunk nodded, feeling tears prick at his eyes.

          “All of us are leaders and warriors. The Galra were taking us to their arena to fight in their horrendous games, to make an example out of all of us. I have no doubt that’s where they’re taking your friend.”

          Hunk felt his heart race. They knew where they were taking Lance. This was amazing. He had to tell the others, they had to come up with a plan…

          “Listen to me.” Uhl grabbed Hunk’s wrist before he could walk away. His voice was quiet and filled with grief. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to get your friend back, but if you do,” Uhl paused, his eyes meeting Hunk’s, “he will not the same.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six! Finally got my schedule and life figured out, so updates should be more frequent (Hopefully) Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!

          Keith huddled in his alcove. He tucked his knees into his chest and tried to drown out the sound of Lance’s screams. He put his head in his hands, and every time Lance stopped, Keith took a breath, hoping beyond hope that it was finally over, that maybe Lance was okay. But the screaming always started again. Lance cried out in agony until his voice was hoarse and fading. Keith was helpless, completely useless. What kind of teammate was he? Huddled up like a coward while Lance suffered. Keith wound his fingers through his hair, trying to stifle to rage that was bubbling inside, threatening to boil over and consume him. When Keith got his hands on that filthy Galra, he was going to make him pay.

          At least if Lance was screaming, he was alive. Keith held on to that fact. It buoyed him and he clung to it, even tighter than he clung to his thoughts of revenge. Lance was alive, and he was fighting, Keith repeated over and over to himself.

          The sound of footsteps jarred Keith from his thoughts. He held still and listened. He heard the rough voice of a Galra.

          “That blue paladin sure is something,” they said.

          “They all are. Can’t wait to see him fight. Should be interesting,” replied a second voice.

          There was a succession of smacking and sucking noises and, Keith realized with a start, they were making out, or whatever Galra did. Keith tried hard not to gag. Just his luck. Instead of hearing his friend screaming in unrelenting agony, he was listening to two Galra going at each other. Keith quietly slipped on his helmet to help drown out the noises from outside, and in his head. He tried to get a little rest, but he couldn’t sleep. Eventually, after the two Galra left, Keith decided he needed to try contacting the castle. If he could patch his own locator into the Galra transmitter, he might be able to broadcast a signal strong enough for the castle to pick up.

          There were several problems with that plan. He couldn’t patch into the Galra ship without giving away his location, and survival. Whatever he did, it would have to be fast. Secondly, someone at the castle would have to recognize the signature. No doubt it would be slightly altered by using Galra tech to boost it.

          Keith realized then that it wouldn’t matter if he got caught. If he could get the signal out, the rest of the team would come find them. He didn’t like it, but getting captured might be the only way to lead the team here so they could help Lance. That was what was important.

         Keith sucked in a breath before pulling himself out of his little alcove. Sword in hand, he made his way down the hall.

_“Patience yields focus,”_ he heard Shiro’s voice echo in his head the way it always did before he did something reckless. Keith dispatched the first Sentry easily, then the next, and the next. A blaster bolt skimmed his arm, and he grunted as he fought to keep his balance, grateful for the thick armour. Running from side to side to make a more difficult target, he drove his sword through the Sentry’s chest before slicing off its arm to open the door to the communications room where Lance had been captured. The door had been replaced, but the room was empty, and Keith had the sinking feeling that it had something to do with Lance.

         Keith placed the Sentry’s hand. It flashed red once. Access denied. Keith didn’t really think it would work, but he had had a feeble hope. Keith placed his hand over the screen. It hovered there. He had already given his survival away by the Sentries he destroyed. He pressed his hand down before leaping out of the way of the clamp that shot out. He sliced in half with his sword before getting pulling a small cable that Pidge had connected to the controls in his suit to download the manifests.

         That mission seemed like so long ago. It was only what, three or four hours since Lance had been captured? Keith shoved aside his swirling thoughts and let his fingers race across the screen. If someone asked him to explain it, Keith knew he wouldn’t be able to, but for some reason, the Galra tech was ridiculously intuitive. Keith patched himself through, and activated his locator. He waited, tapping his foot anxiously. Every minute here was another minute he was closer to being captured. He threw his sword and the already damaged controls, sealing the door once again. A sick sense of déjà vu flooded Keith’s mind. It was only a matter of time before they came.

         The sound of Lance’s screams echoed and bounced around his mind like gunshots. What would that beast do to him when he was caught? Keith shuddered, trying not to think about it. This was the only way to help Lance.

         A small green light flashed on the controls in his armour. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

         “Hello? Paladins? Coran?” he called out names, hoping beyond hope that someone was monitoring communications. “Shiro? Please.” Keith hated the way his voice cracked. He couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now, not ever.

         “Keith!” Pidge cried through his helmet. Keith couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face.

         “Patched myself into the Galra communications to boost the signal. Do you read my location?”

         “Keith, that’s brilliant.” Keith couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Pidge was the resident tech expert. If she thought it was smart, chances were, it was. “Yes. I read your location, already calculating trajectories. How long can you keep the signal?”

         “Not long,” Keith answered, calling his bayard back to him. It dematerialized, and Keith felt a small surge of static that meant it had dissolved into his armour.

         “Are you in danger?”

         “Not currently, but the Galra will be here any second.”

         “Hold the signal for as long as you can. We’ll wormhole close by for a rescue.” There was a tense pause. “Hunk figured out where Borok is taking Lance.”

         Keith sucked in a breath. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

         “Where?”

         “The gladiator arena.”

         Keith felt a wave of fear and rage fill him. That was where Shiro had been forced to fight. Keith remembered Shiro’s fear, the sheer terror that refused to leave him, that kept him up at night, and permeated so much of what he did. Keith had seen what that place did to his mentor and best friend, and he hated it. He had visions of himself burning it to the ground.

         Keith was pulled out of his thoughts by a pounding at the door.

         “They’re here,” he hissed to Pidge.

         “Hold on,” she encouraged before cutting out.

         In that moment, Keith felt completely and utterly alone.

         The door flew open once again, and Keith felt a small amount of satisfaction from that. Keith activated his shield. One arm still connected to the controls, he couldn’t do much more than defend himself. He crouched down, making himself a smaller target, and braced for laser fire. Keith counted four Sentries and two Galra. He didn’t see the commander, Borok. The Sentries had standard Galra blasters, but the Galra officers had rifles with long, narrow barrels. One of the officers fired, and Keith watched as a small dart flew past his shield and bounce off the control panel. Tranquilizer, probably.

         The Sentries stood at the door, blocking his exit. The two officers approached cautiously. Keith had no way of defending himself, but they didn’t need to know that. The officers fire darts at him, and Keith raised his shield, deflecting them. One officer pulled out a baton, and charged at Keith. A non-lethal weapon. Keith blocked the first strike with his shield, then slammed it up into the Galra’s chin. They stumbled back, and Keith was able to turn his attention to the other one, who fired another dart. Keith ducked, while simultaneously slamming the bottom of his shield into the foot of the first officer, who howled in pain before taking a step back.

         He could fight. He could let the connection go, and hope it was enough to lead the team to them. He spared a quick glance at his wrist, still connected to the Galra control panel by a cord that wasn’t even a foot long. Or, he could stall for time before they inevitably captured him. This deck would be swarming with Galra, and the only reason he made it this far undetected on the ship was that they thought he was dead. He couldn’t take on an entire Galra ship single-handed. That just wasn’t an option. His best play was to buy time for Pidge to track him.

         “Where’s Lance,” Keith growled, hoping he was intimidating.

         “Your blue paladin? In the prison block, where the Commander likes to keep all his,” the Galra with the rifle paused, as though savouring their next words, “experiments.”

         Keith’s stomach rolled. What had Borok done to his friend?

         “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to join him soon enough,” the officer with the baton smirked, rubbing his injured jaw.

          They advanced on Keith once again. He deflected another dart before shouting out a warning.

          “Don’t come any closer,” Keith threatened. “I’ve rigged this whole place. One more step, and the whole ship explodes.”

          “You wouldn’t explode the same ship your friend is on,” Rifle Officer scoffed, but there was apprehension in their voice.

          “Oh yeah? Try me.”

          Rifle Officer and Baton Officer frowned at each other once before continuing their advance.

          Damn. Keith said a silent apology to Pidge as he disconnected the cord. He materialized his sword and lunged at Rifle Officer. Using the butt of his sword, he slammed down on their hands, forcing them to drop the rifle, before smashing upwards into their face, knocking them back. At the same time, Keith’s blade was met with the baton from behind. Keith held the sword backwards above his head. He pivoted and ducked under the baton strike, then leapt over another aimed at his legs. Keith lunged down, catching the baton with his blade. The officer’s eyes widened as Keith slide his blade down, then twisted it against the palm of the officer’s hand. They screamed and dropped the baton, cradling their hand to their chest. Keith was about to land the final blow, Lance’s screams echoing in his head, when he felt something sharp in his neck. He turned to see the Rifle Officer on the floor, gun in hand. Keith dissolved his shield and pulled the dart from his neck, but he already felt faint. By instinct, he dropped to the floor, feeling another dart whiz past his head. He struggled to remain conscious, but he could feel the effects of the dart levelling off. He must’ve pulled it out in time. He could still feel his eyelids drooping. His movements were sluggish, and the officers knew it.

          He managed to land one more hit on Baton Officer, but the Sentries by the door had moved around the room while he was distracted, and were now closing in. Keith continued to fight. He knew it was hopeless. He heard the sound of reinforcements from down the hall. More than anything, Keith wanted to sleep. He wanted to curl up and close his eyes. His body was so heavy.

          The memory of Lance’s screams tore Keith from his stupor, and he leaned back, dodging a Sentry’s swipe before leaning in and cutting the Sentry’s arm off. He threw the arm at Rifle Officer, but they dodged, firing another dart into Keith’s neck. It pierced his under-armour and stung his skin, but he didn’t have time to pull it out. He felt himself stumble, his arms becoming limp at his size. Terror seized him as his legs stopped moving and he fell to the ground. His armour was torn off, and as he fought to stay awake, felt the metal arms of the Sentries grab his arms and drag him down the hall. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for feeling to return to his body, because he knew it hurt when they dropped him on the ground. He heard the sound of a door slamming behind him. Keith groaned, and pushed himself into a sitting position. His arms ached with the movement.

          A whimper came from somewhere to Keith’s right. He turned his head, and felt acid rise up his throat. Keith crawled to Lance’s side, who laid curled up against the wall. Lance’s under-armour was torn and bloody, his back covered in cuts and newly formed bruises. Keith slumped against the wall beside him, leaning his pounding head against the cool wall of the cell.

          “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, Lance. I,” Keith paused. He had always been bad at opening up to people, but after everything Lance had gone through, the least he could do was try to help him feel better, and make sure he wasn’t blaming himself for them being in this situation. “This isn’t your fault, and I promise, we’re going to be okay.”

          Lance only moaned in response. No smart comment or stupid joke. Keith’s stomach twisted. Something must be seriously wrong.

          “Lance, what happened? What did he do to you?”

          “My leg,” Lance groaned, unfolding his body.

          Keith’s stomach twisted into burning knots. If he had any food in his stomach, he would’ve thrown it up. In one horrifying moment, Keith understood why Lance had been screaming. Keith couldn’t even begin to imagine how much pain Lance had been in, was still in. Keith swallowed hard, realizing that his throat was dry. He steeled himself for another look. He needed to asses the damage, and figure out the best way to help Lance.

          Lance’s right leg, just above his knee, was gone. Borok had cut Lance’s leg off. Keith felt a flash of unadulterated rage roar over him. When he got his hands on Borok, and he would, Keith was going to make him suffer.

          “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” Keith growled, and Lance chuckled weakly in response. The sound eased Keith’s anger enough for him to focus back on Lance.

          “Well,” Lance said. His voice was barely a whisper, but there was an unmistakable edge to that Keith had never heard from Lance before. “That makes two of us.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Chapter 7. Hope you enjoy, and please feel free to leave a comment to let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated. Also, thanks for making it this far!

When Lance was a kid, he must’ve been about five, his sister Rachel dared him to jump out of a tree. Lance did it, obviously, and suffered a broken ankle for his efforts. He hadn’t been able to walk on it for almost two months, and at the time, thought he would never be in more pain than that moment when he hit the ground with a snap. Then, Sendak tried blowing him up, and Lance thought that was the most pain he would ever experience. It had been worth it though. He saved Coran. This, this was something else entirely.

          Lance wanted to die. It seemed completely wrong to be in so much pain, and still be breathing. The unending agony wound its way through his entire body. He could hardly feel the burn on his arm anymore, the pain was so consuming. Lance wanted to die. He wanted nothing more than for the pain to stop, for it to leave him in peace.

          Lance’s uncle had had his leg amputated. He never told the family what for, and he often described what he called “phantom pains” where his leg used to be. Lance didn’t have to worry about that. He had plenty of real agony to keep him occupied. Then Keith had appeared, bedraggled and indignant, but he was there. Lance focused on his friend’s face. His strange purple eyes, his stupid mullet. At first Lance was grateful that Keith was here. He wasn’t alone anymore. That gratitude swiftly changed to anger. Why was Keith here? What reckless thing had he done to wind up here, suffering next to Lance? Lance thought of the dart he took to the neck to prevent Keith from winding up in this exact spot.

          All those emotions were wiped away when he saw the looks of shock, fear, revulsion, and anger flash across Keith’s face when he saw what Borok had done to him. With Keith’s help, Lance eased himself into a sitting position. Every movement sent shocks of pain through his body. Lance tried using his legs to push himself up, but gasped in shock and pain when his now stump touched the floor. It felt so, so wrong. Keith sat beside Lance and stretched his leg out so that Lance’s stump could rest on it, above the floor. A small, barely noticeable shudder raked Keith’s body. They sat like that, not saying anything. Lance hated how ragged his breathing sounded. Keith leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. That didn’t seem like the ever-vigilant Keith, but Lance realized, he must be exhausted. Lance was too, but he knew he would never be able to sleep.

          “I’m sorry, Keith.”

          Keith’s eyes snapped open. “This isn’t your fault.”

          “You shouldn’t be here with me. You should be somewhere safe, waiting for rescue.”

          “And what, leave you to be tortured like a lab rat?” Keith leaned forward, suddenly angry. Lance couldn’t help but shrink away. Keith’s expression softened at Lance’s reaction. He lowered his voice. “I contacted the castle.”

          “You what?” Lance cried, feeling a sudden surge of hope.

          “Shh, keep your voice down. Pidge tracked my signal, and they should be here soon.”

          Lance was silent for a minute. “That’s how they found you.”

          Keith sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair. “Yeah, it is.”

          “Thank you.”

          “It’s fine.”

          “Seriously, Keith, thank you.”

          “I just wish I could’ve helped you sooner, done something before…”

          Keith faded out. He didn’t need to finish his thought. Before Borok had broken Lance beyond compare. The reality of the situation hit Lance like a freight train. He would never be whole again.

          Lance cursed himself for thinking like that. Shiro had a prosthetic. It didn’t make him any less of a badass soldier and leader. Shiro could do it. He had survived far worse than Lance. Lance could survive too. He had to.

          Lance realized that blood was seeping through his bandage. Lance tried pulling his tattered shirt off to use as a fresh bandage. Borok’s “doctors” had haphazardly stitched it up, but that did very little to staunch the blood flow. Keith noticed what Lance was trying to do, and helped ease Lance’s shirt over his head. Keith tied it around Lance’s leg and around the stump. Lance flinched as he pulled it tight. It probably wouldn’t do much, but it was better than nothing.

          Without the under armour, Lance felt exposed, vulnerable. He knew that was crazy. The shirt wouldn’t protect him from much anyway. Lance leaned on Keith, suddenly exhausted. Keith stiffened slightly at the touch, but relaxed soon after. Keith even gently wrapped his arm around Lance’s shoulders. Keith smelled like dirt and sweat, and before Lance realized what was happening, he had drifted off into a restless sleep.

 

          Lance woke up to Keith gently shaking him. There was a loud bang as the doors to the cell opened and Borok sauntered in, trailed by several smaller Galra. Lance recognized a few of them as the “doctors” who helped stitch him back up. He felt a sudden wave of anger. They were monsters, every one of them.

          Keith’s arm from around his shoulder had moved protectively in front of Lance’s chest. Neither of them made a move to get up. Lance didn’t think he could. Borok’s eyes drifted to Lance’s right leg before a sick smile spread across his lips. Keith stood up slowly, making sure what remained of Lance’s leg didn’t hit the floor hard. It didn’t hurt quite so bad with the extra layer of bandage. Keith stood in front of Lance, knees bent, hands curled into fists. Lance wanted to shout at him, tell him to back away, to get down, to run, but he couldn’t make himself form the words. His eyes were locked on Borok’s scimitar. It was covered in dried blood.

          Lance’s blood.

          Lance felt his body shudder as the memories of the pain blocked out every coherent thought. Lance squeezed his eyes closed. He took a shaky breath, and counted backward from ten. When he opened his eyes, the memories had faded to the back of his mind, still waiting, like wolves, ready to pounce on him in any moment of weakness. Lance forced himself to meet Borok’s eyes. He allowed the anger to fill him, flooding his body, pushing away his thoughts of fear and pain. The rage was better than terror, and Lance embraced it.

          Lance grabbed Keith’s arm, and began to pull himself up.

          “Lance, it’s okay,” Keith tried to tell him, but stopped when he saw the defiant look in Lance’s eyes. Keith put his other arm around Lance’s torso, helping to pull him up. Lance grabbed Keith’s shoulder, and with his leg shaking, stood at his full height. He had to lean heavily on Keith, but he was standing. The look of shock that flashed across Borok’s face was worth the excruciating pain.

          “Despite your best efforts, I’m still outrageously strong and good-looking.”

          Borok actually scowled. Lance reveled in it, despite the little voice in his head that warned him he would be punished.

          Good, he thought, surprised at himself. What more could they take from him? At least if Borok was focused on him, he might leave Keith alone.

          Borok’s smile returned, and Lance felt chills crawl up his spine.

          “Despite your best efforts, I’m going to need you to stand on your own for the fights.”

          “Yeah, well you probably shouldn’t have cut my leg off.”

          “Lance,” Keith muttered in warning. Lance ignored him.

          “I’m a Paladin of Voltron. You don’t scare me.”

          Did Lance believe that? Probably not. Borok and his creepy grin scared the hell out of him, but was he going to let him know that? Absolutely not.

          “Take them,” Borok commanded lazily. Lance felt Keith tense, ready for a fight, but Lance just shook his head. They were outmatched, with no weapons, and Lance was severely injured. This was not a fight they could win.

          One of the Galra grabbed Lance’s arm and pulled him away from Keith, causing him to fall. Lance screamed as his leg hit the floor. Keith tried to help Lance back up, but was yanked back roughly by his neck.

          “Wait,” Keith shouted, so commanding, that even Borok paused and looked at him. “Let me carry him.” Keith paused, struggling with his next words. “Please.”

          Borok seemed to find Keith’s begging appealing. He nodded once curtly, and the other Galra stepped away.

          “You bested me once with your survival. You may carry your friend.”

          Keith knelt beside Lance.

          “Are you okay?”

          “Never been better,” Lance answered with a cocky grin. “How are you planning to carry me?”

          “Piggy-back?” Keith suggested.

          “Let’s do it.”

          Keith turned so his back was to Lance, who wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders. Keith grunted as he stood up slowly, hooking his arm under Lance’s knee, and leaning forward slightly to prevent him from slipping off. Keith put his hand carefully on the leg Borok had cut off. Lance winced slightly, but swallowed his pain. He didn’t need to make this any harder on Keith.

          Lance felt a Galra blaster being pressed against his back. Keith took a shaky step forward before finding his balance. He stood, glaring at Borok, who turned on his heel and left the room wordlessly.

          Keith followed Borok down the hall. Lance hung on tightly, incredibly grateful that Keith was there with him, then feeling incredibly guilty. Keith was in danger because of him. Lance figured the best way he could help Keith was by making himself the bigger target.

          Lance felt his resolve waver slightly when he realized they were returning to the room where Borok had mangled him. Lance’s breath hitched, and Keith tightened his grip as a silent show of support. Borok instructed Keith to set Lance down on the operating table, which he did reluctantly. Lance sucked in a breath when his bare skin contacted the cool metal. Borok didn’t bother strapping him down. Lance couldn’t run anywhere, he realized, his stomach twisting into knots.

          Before Lance could even blink, Borok had grabbed Keith by the neck and lifted him off the ground, slamming him into the wall. Keith clawed at Borok’s hands, legs flailing.

          “Ha! I knew it!” Lance cried, mustering more courage and confidence than he felt. “Even after you got rid of one of my limbs, you still can’t face me.”

        Borok’s grip loosened slightly, and Lance could hear Keith wheezing.

        “You’re nothing but a coward and a monster. I doubt you have any friends, and clearly your parents hate you, giving you such an awful name.” Lance decided he just needed to keep saying things until he hit a nerve. “If you even have any family. You probably killed them all with your stupidity.”

        Ah. Lance found the nerve. Borok dropped Keith, who fell to his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. Borok crossed the space, and grabbed Lance’s leg, allowing his claws to dig in to his skin. Lance couldn’t help the scream that tore from his throat. The pressure sent waves of fire up the remainder of his leg and through his body. Lance steadied his breathing and bit his cheek to stop screaming. There was nothing he could do about the pitiful tears that tracked down his face.

        “Your friend has a large mouth, yet he refuses to divulge any useful information to us.” Borok lifted his hand and turned to face Keith. “Other than the fact that he cares about what happens to you. Now, your friend is about to undergo a painful procedure. If you provide us with information, I will provide your friend with anesthetics.”

        “I won’t talk.”

        “Yeah! Stick it to the man, Keith.” Lance hoped Keith couldn’t hear his fear.

          Borok simply shrugged, his infuriating grin returning. Borok said something to one of the other Galra, who saluted and left. That Galra returned with a cart. The contents of the cart were covered by a black sheet. Whatever was underneath couldn’t be good. Borok strapped Lance’s arms to the table, the straps biting into his bare skin. Borok pulled the sheet off and tossed it to the ground. What a dramatic guy, Lance thought before he nearly vomited at what he saw on the table.

          “You’re a monster,” Keith snapped, lunging at Borok before two other Galra grabbed his arms and pulled him back.

          On the table, sat a myriad of terrifying and painfully sharp medical instruments. In the center, laid a prosthetic leg. It looked just like Shiro’s robot arm. Borok grinned and picked up a scalpel looking tool, and Lance could hear Keith shouting, calling his name. He tried to focus on the sound of Keith’s voice through the haze of pain. His body erupted in agony. Lance felt the last of the tears his body had to offer slide down his face. A small, selfish piece of him wished Keith would cave and help ease the agony, but the rest of him shoved that down. He could take it. He was protecting his team, his family.

          He could take it.

          He could take it.   


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry! This took forever, and it isn't even that long. Like I told one commenter, life has been kicking my ass lately, but I hope you're still interested! Anyway, comments are a great way to make an author's day, if you have a moment :)

Pidge practically flew into the infirmary, positively vibrating with excitement. Coran wondered what had caused the youngest paladin to become worked up. Coran helped the last of the aliens from their cryopod. He wrapped a blanket around their narrow shoulders, and led them to chair where they could rest. He then turned to face number five, who, despite the dire situation, was grinning from ear to ear. Coran chose to take it as a good sign, or else number five had cracked completely.

          “What is it, number five?” Coran asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

          “Well, I was monitoring Galra radio chatter hoping to hear a mention of the arena, after all, a paladin is something they’d want to broadcast to drum up the largest possible audience, and trying to figure out how to boost the tracker to locate Keith, however, in order to reach him at such a long distance, and judging by my calculations based on Galra hyperspace travel, while taking into account the substantial structural damage to the ship, I was able to…”

          “Woah, woah, slow down. Now, what’s got you so worked up?” Coran marveled at the fact that number five was able to say all of that without taking a single breath.

          “Keith contacted us! He patched himself into the Galra communications and used it to boost his signal. I was able to calculate trajectories, and now I think we can find Lance.”

          Coran grabbed Pidge in a quick hug before they raced through the castle together, leaving some highly confused aliens behind them. When they arrived at the bridge, Hunk and Shiro were already there, along with Allura, who was reaching out, attempting to connect with Lance and Keith the same way she did with the lions. Her eyes were closed and her face scrunched in concentration. Coran put a hand gently on her shoulder, and she jumped slightly before realizing it was him. She stepped away and stood next to Coran as Pidge relayed everything to the rest of the team.     

          “We’ll need to split up, use the lions to cover as much space along their known flight path. Coran, you and Allura will have to bring the aliens somewhere safe. When we start the rescue, we can’t have them here.”

          Coran nodded. “There’s a coalition planet not far from here, one varga at most. They should be safe there.”

          “If it’s a coalition planet, will we be able to get back up?” Hunk asked, his eyes filling with hope.

          Coran hated to be the one to quash it. “Unlikely. They have a small military to begin with, and all their resources are being used to re-establish an independent governing system.”

          Hunk’s face fell.

          “How do we know it’s safe there for the liberated prisoners?” Shiro questioned. Coran knew that the wellbeing of these aliens was personal to Shiro, so he did his best to ease his mind.

          “It’s a peaceful planet, removed from the fighting. They will be perfectly safe. We can come back for them after we rescue our red and blue paladins.”

          “We’ll need a plan once we find them,” Allura spoke up for the first time.

          “We only have three lions, so Voltron is out of the question,” Shiro said.

          “What if we get to Lance and Keith and form Voltron on the way out?” Pidge suggested as she paced the length of the bridge.

          “We don’t know what shape they’ll be in when we find them.”

          Coran could tell that Shiro didn’t want to say that they might be dead already, but the words hung in the air, weighing down the room.

          “I’ll go in. I know their protocol, I can find where they’re keeping them and get them out. Pidge, I’ll need you for extraction, Hunk, you’ll be with me. Coran and Allura, you provide support. Fire on them from a distance, but only target the locations I give you.”

          “Shiro, you don’t have to go back in there. We’ll find another way.” Allura put a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

          “I’ll be okay. I can’t let my past come between us and saving our friends.”

          Allura nodded.

          “I’ll send the calculations I made once we get to our lions,” Pidge said, already moving towards to hangar.

          “Stay safe, all of you,” Coran said as they exited the bridge. “We’ll contact you as soon as we deliver the aliens.”

          The next varga flew by. Coran had made arrangements with the Coalition planet before Allura opened the wormhole. Coran was in a haze of nerves and excitement. Lance and Keith had only been gone for seven or eight varga, but he knew that the Galra only needed one. Every beep set his teeth on edge.

          After dropping off the ex-prisoners, Coran stood on the bridge with Allura as they connected with the lions, who were making a sweep of the possible locations, with the help of a handful of drones.

          “I think I’m picking up something,” Pidge said, voice tight. Coran held his breath. “There’s a massive ship, I’ve never seen one this large, and, oh my God!”

          “Pidge?” Hunk prompted.

          “It’s Keith! His tracker, he activated it.”

          Hunk let out a victorious whoop.

          “Sending coordinates now.” A tick later, Coran’s screen lit up. Allura closed her eyes, and soon, they were hurtling through a wormhole.

          “We’re going to save our paladins,” Coran breathed, afraid he might shatter the opportunity.

          The castle shook as they exited the wormhole. Coran darted around the bridge frantically.

          “Coran, what’s going on?” Allura demanded. A blast rocked the ship just as Coran got the particle barrier up.

          “They’re firing on us, princess.”

          “How did they know we were coming?”

          “Keith’s tracker,” Shiro said over the comms. “They must’ve activated it.”

          “Does that mean…” Hunk never finished his thought.

          “We won’t know for sure until we get on board. Everybody, regroup at the castle.”

          Coran steered the castle out of range before leaning over the console, adrenaline fading. A doboshe later, the paladins flooded onto the bridge, breathing heavily.

          Pidge flopped into her station, desperately trying to contact Keith. Her voice was shaking as she called his name between breaths.

          “What do we do now? They know we’re here. How are we going to get them out now?” Hunk was clearly panicking. Coran strode to his side and placed an arm around his shoulder.

          “We’re going to figure something out,” he reassured, but he had no idea what. Coran glanced at Shiro, who was deep in thought.

          “They’re going to force them to fight,” Shiro mused, and Coran couldn’t help but notice the way his flesh hand shook. “They’ll want a large crowd, Paladins of Voltron are powerful prisoners. We might be able to sneak in as part of the crowd.”

          “Several ships just dropped out of hyperspace,” Pidge piped up, staring at her screen.

          “But they know we’re here,” Hunk said.

          “So we leave,” Shiro stated.

          Coran gawked at him. “How does that work, exactly?”

          “The green lion has cloaking. Pidge, Hunk, and I can sneak aboard while you and Allura retreat. They’ll think we’ve left to bring back more forces. They won’t be expecting an attack from inside.”

          “That could work,” Allura said, moving to stand by Shiro.

          “Well, we’d best do it fast,” Coran added.

          The paladins sprinted to Pidge’s hangar.  

          “Give us one varga, and if we don’t make contact by then…”

          “We’ll figure something out,” Coran cut him off. “We always do.”

          Shiro nodded once before disappearing. Allura moved beside Coran, and he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

         “We need to have faith in them.”

          “I know, I just feel responsible for anything that happens to them.” Allura looked up at Coran with beautiful, wide eyes. Eyes that belonged to the princess, no, his daughter.

          “We need to have faith in them,” he repeated, allowing a few more ticks of comfort before they bustled about the bridge, preparing for what Coran hoped would be a strategic retreat. He needed to believe in his paladins.

          And he did. He did.

         Still, Coran couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his stomach as they wormholed out of sight.

         It was up to his paladins. They would not fail. Coran turned his head back to his screen. They would be victorious. They had to be.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came a lot faster than the last one. The rescue is starting, let's goooo.  
> As always, comments are greatly appreciated :) Also, I hope you guys appreciate the Gladiator reference! Anyway, thanks for reading :)

          “Put these on,” Borok snarled, tossing a sack at Keith’s feet. It clattered to the ground in front of them. Keith stood over Lance, fists balled, waiting for his opening. He knew it wouldn’t do him any good, but listening to Lance’s wails and whimpers as Borok destroyed a piece of his body filled Keith with red-hot anger unlike anything he ever felt before. Before Keith could do anything, Borok turned out of the cell, the door sealing behind him. Keith knelt down and opened the bag. Their paladin armour. Keith would be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful to see the familiar sight, but he knew what it meant.

          They wanted Lance and him to fight, and they weren’t recognizable without the armour. Lance whimpered, and Keith knelt beside him, feeling bile rise up his throat. He wasn’t squeamish, not usually, but what that beast did to Lance made Keith nauseous.

          “Lance,” Keith whispered, keeping his voice soft.

          After Borok finished his procedure, he dumped Keith and Lance in yet another cell, leaving them for who knows how long. Lance was barely conscious, and Keith knew that it was his fault, but there had been no other choice. Still, he hated that he could’ve eased Lance’s pain, and he didn’t. He knew though that if he had caved and given Borok the information he wanted, Lance never would’ve forgiven him.

          Keith said Lance’s name again, and he opened his eyes this time, which were swimming with pain and confusion. It broke Keith’s heart, and reminded him far too much of the look on Shiro’s face after he had crashed on Earth.

          “They gave us back our armour. We need to put it on. Can you sit up?”

          Lance nodded weakly and allowed Keith to help him sit up, his legs spread in front of him. Keith forced himself to look at the prosthetic. The smell of burnt flesh from Borok cauterizing Lance’s leg still lingered in the air, and the skin around the prosthetic was red and swollen. The metal had been fused into Lance’s skin, and spread underneath it like veins. The metal had a faint purple hue, which Keith had no idea how Borok managed it without Druid magic.

          Keith dumped their armour out and started doing Lance’s up. He waited until the end to do the prosthetic leg. Keith hesitated. It wasn’t the prosthetic that bothered him. It was no different than Shiro’s arm, it was the agony that went along with it. Every time he saw it, he would hear Lance’s screams of agony. He knew that Shiro had gone through something almost identical, but he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been offered the chance to ease the pain.

          Keith did the armour up around Lance’s new leg before putting on his own. Keith was sure Lance was uncomfortable without his under-armour, but he didn’t show it. Lance’s breathing, while still rapid and shallow, grew steadier with every passing minute. He hadn’t said a word since Borok left, and it worried Keith. Lance was never silent.

          “Where did you learn to shoot?” Keith asked him as he tightened the last straps on Lance’s armour.

          “I’m a natural,” he slurred, voice heavy with pain.

          “Really?”

          “No. My tío had a farm. He taught me to shoot pigeons and gofers. Veronica and I got certified together.” Lance paused, his lips pursed. “Shooting Galra is a little different though.”

          “Well, yeah. The pigeons are just trying to survive. The Galra Empire is corrupt, and horrible, and they’ve hurt so many innocent people. They would kill you in the blink of an eye, Lance.”

          “Don’t you think I know that? I never wanted to kill anyone. At least as a sniper, I don’t always have to see their faces.”

          Keith was stunned. He never thought of that. He just knew that being a sniper was where Lance was comfortable, and damnit, he did a good job.

          “I know I’m a coward, I’m not brave like you or Shiro, or smart like Hunk or Pidge, I’m just me.”

          “That’s all we need you to be Lance. We would fall apart without you.”

          Lance smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks Keith.”

          “Well, that was heartwarming, but it’s time to go,” Borok’s gravely voice filled Keith with rage, and when he turned around with every intent to kill that bastard, Lance put a weak hand on Keith’s arm. There were five other Galra soldiers. Keith would be killed before he could scratch Borok.

          “Now, stand up.”

          Lance grip tightened on Keith’s arm.

          “Can you do it?” Keith whispered. Lance nodded weakly. The prosthetic began to whirr as Lance bent his knees. His body shook and sweat beaded his forehead, but slowly, he rose to one knee, then to his feet. Keith felt a surge of pride for his friend. Lance stuck out his chin, and Keith didn’t miss the look of triumph on his face.

          “Now, walk.”

          Leaning on Keith, Lance took a shaky step forward. Then another, and another. His leg buckled once, and Keith grunted as he suddenly held up all of Lance’s weight. The prosthetic squealed as Lance regained his footing.

          “Sorry,” he muttered.

          “It’s okay.”

          The two of them were led out of the room and down a long hall. They entered an airlock, and Keith was debating taking out Borok right then and there, but he knew that if he tried anything, Lance would suffer for it. When the airlock opened, he could hear a massive crowd. Whatever was coming was going to be bad. Keith steeled himself. He needed to do something before they reached that crowd. There were three Galra behind them, each had a blaster trained on their backs, and two Galra on either side, blasters trained forward. Borok had their bayards displayed on his belt, showing off. The hall on the other side of the airlock was narrower, the Galra flanking them would have to walk in front or behind. Keith made eye contact with Lance, then gestured to the Galra beside them with his eyes. Lance gave a small nod. Keith mouthed a countdown from three. Lance’s body tensed. Keith felt his heart pound. _Two, one._

Lance threw his body into the Galra beside him, slamming them into the edge of the airlock, and Keith did the same. Keith ducked and rolled beneath Borok’s strike, sweeping his legs out from under him and grabbing their bayards from his belt. Keith wanted to kiss his sword when it materialized in his hand. Keith tossed Lance’s bayard to him, before making his way back to Lance’s side. He knew that Lance didn’t have complete mobility, so he needed to protect him. Lance’s prosthetic jerked and he fell to one knee, but he still managed to shoot one of the Galra behind them in the chest. They fell back, unmoving, and Keith saw Lance grimace. Keith was still aware of the roar of the crowd.

          The ship shook, which knocked Keith from his feet. He slammed into the wall, incredibly grateful for his armour. Alarm lights began flashing, just like they did when they first attacked the ship. It must be the team. They were here to rescue them. Keith nearly shouted for joy, and Lance looked to be the same. Their brief moment of joy was shattered when Borok, who regained himself much faster than Keith did, grabbed him by the neck and slammed his head into the wall. Keith saw stars as he clawed at Borok’s hands. Borok wrenched his bayard from his grip, twisting Keith’s wrist. From the corner of his eye, Keith saw Lance wrestling with his prosthetic. Borok jammed his knee into Keith’s stomach to keep him pinned against the wall. He barked a command to one of the remaining Galra, who pried Keith’s armour off his stomach. Borok leaned close to Keith’s ear.

          “I’m afraid you won’t put up as much sport, but you’ve caused too much trouble.”

          And with that, Borok took a blade from his belt and drove it into Keith’s gut.

          Faintly, he could hear Lance screaming. He wondered if Lance was being tortured again. It took him a moment to realize Lance was screaming for him. Keith looked down at the blade in his stomach. A small trickle of blood was falling. The first thing he noticed was the pressure, like someone had used a hydraulic press on his stomach. His body began aching. Keith searched the small space for Lance, who was being held by his arms by two Galra. Tears streaked his face as he called Keith’s name. Borok shoved the blade in as deep as it would go before letting the armour fall back in place. Keith screamed when he fell to the ground, the movement jarring the weapon now inside him. He knew that he leaving it in was the only thing keeping him from bleeding out right then, but everything else screamed for him to get it out as his stomach convulsed around it. Keith was on his hands and knees, vomiting blood. Lance was by his side, helping him to his feet. They made a pitiful pair as they marched towards the arena and certain death.

          Keith’s surroundings became a blur, but he knew when they arrived in the arena by the roar of the crowd. They were shoved to the center, their bayards tossed to the ground in front of them. Keith didn’t even have the strength to bend over and pick his up. Lance scooped it up and handed it to Keith, wrapping an arm around him. They couldn’t even stand on their own. How were they to fight?

          Borok gave an introduction. The mighty Paladins of Voltron, brought low. Keith didn’t hear anything else besides the blood rushing through his ears.

          “Keith,” Lance shouted over the roar of the crowd, “it’s been an honour.”

          “D-d-on’t talk like that.”

          Lance laughed. “Fine. I’m glad I’ll never have to see your stupid mullet again.”

          But there were tears in Lance’s eyes. There was a very real possibility that they were going to die. Keith would never tease Lance again, never listen to Pidge ramble about science, never hug his brother again. Hopefully the team would find someone else to help them form Voltron. Wincing, Keith activated his bayard and took a fighting stance. He was going to do everything in his power to save Lance. He knew there was no chance for him, but Lance could still escape. He had to believe that.

          A cage on the far end of the arena slowly opened, and Keith was preparing for a massive robeast like the ones they constantly fought as Voltron. Instead, two small figures bounded out. Keith hated to kill them, but they would have to if Lance had any chance of getting out of here. Keith thought he recognized them, but maybe it was just pain making him hallucinate. He missed Shiro, that must be why the figure racing across the sand towards him ran just like him.

          “Shiro? Hunk!” Lance cried, pulling Keith forward with him to meet them.

          They must’ve gotten through. They were here to rescue them. A horde of Galra soldiers charged through the arena, led by Borok. Keith and Lance met up with Shiro and Hunk, but there was no time to catch up because the horde was almost upon them. Hunk and Lance began taking them down, and Keith realized with a chill, Lance was aiming for their legs. Shiro activated his arm and charged in. Borok weaved around, eyes fixed on Keith. When he got close enough, Keith lunged at him with his sword, but Borok parried with his own blade, sending vibrations down Keith’s arm and through his body. Keith dropped his sword, sending Borok stumbling forward. Keith then reached under his armour, which hadn’t properly been refastened, and pulled the blade out of his stomach. Pain exploded across his abdomen. While Borok was still crouched down, Keith drove the blade into his neck, and they both fell to the ground, the sand stained with red and purple. Keith gave one last shove before he leaned in to Borok’s ear.

          “For Lance.”

          The Galra commander went still, and before Keith could process what he did, darkness enveloped his vision, and he passed out, Borok’s lifeless eyes the last thing he saw before darkness overtook him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for the sporadic updates. Here you go, finally, chapter 10! Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think :)

Lance fought his way to Keith, mind buzzing. Shiro and Hunk, who were dressed in what Lance assumed to be stolen Galra uniforms, must’ve snuck on board and figured out who or what was going to be released on Lance and Keith, and came into the arena that way. Lance caught a glimpse of Shiro as he ducked under a Galra’s strike and delivered a hard blow to their jaw. He faced his worst nightmares in order to rescue them. Lance felt a surge of gratitude. His family had come for them.

          Lance’s new prosthetic gave a jerk, and Lance fell to the sand beside Keith.

          “Stupid, thing.” Lance gritted his teeth. Every movement caused his leg to ache, and it just wouldn’t move the way he needed it to. The first thing Lance noticed as he pushed himself into a crouch was the blood. Purple and red stained the sand, and Lance knew Galra didn’t bleed red. Keith’s right hand, his sword hand, was covered in crimson. Blood was pooling by Keith’s stomach, where Borok had stabbed him. The second thing Lance noticed was Borok’s corpse. The small blade that Borok used to stab Keith was protruding from his neck. Lance reached across Borok’s body, supressing the vomit that involuntarily climbed up his throat, and grabbed Keith’s bayard. Lance tapped Keith lightly, in an attempt to wake him. Lance couldn’t carry him on his own, even if he could walk normally. Lance estimated it had only been about ten minutes since Keith had been injured, and around two since the weapon was removed, allowing the blood to flow. Lance frantically searched for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. His eyes fell on what looked like a small flag hanging from Borok’s belt. Lance ripped it off, catching a glimpse of Borok’s face, his eyes blown wide in shock, mouth gaping with a trickle of blood running down his chin. Lance actually vomited that time. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

          Keith, Keith had killed him. Lance hadn’t seen what happened, only Keith going down, but he had a pretty good idea of what happened. Lance knew that he should be appalled, upset, grateful, even happy, but he didn’t feel anything. No, not true. Lance felt guilty. Keith would bear this burden for the rest of his life. Lance should’ve been the one to do it. Now, Keith was bleeding out in the middle of a Galra arena after doing something he doubted he’d ever had had the strength for. Did killing take strength? Lance decided in this case, it did. Borok would never hurt another innocent person again, thanks to Keith. Borok would never hurt them again.

          Sorry buddy, this is gonna hurt,” Lance mumbled as he reached under Keith’s armour and stuffed the cloth into the wound. Keith’s body gave a jerk, and he groaned in pain, barely conscious. Lance muttered apologies as he continued the pressure. Lance glanced around, searching for Hunk. He couldn’t carry Keith on his own, not with the prosthetic he could barely control.

          Hunk and Shiro weren’t doing too good. After Keith killed Borok, there was confusion among the Galra ranks, but it didn’t last long. The Galra renewed their attack with more force. Shiro and Hunk backed up to Lance and Keith.

          “Lance, how’s Keith?” Shiro called over his shoulder. His voice was thick with worry, and Lance’s words stuck in his throat.

          “He needs a pod, like, yesterday.”

          “Pidge? Pidge! We need you, now!”

          Lance didn’t have his helmet, so he couldn’t hear Pidge’s reply.

          “Pidge won’t make it in time. We need to find a ship to commandeer,” Shiro said, sparing with multiple Sentries.

          “Shiro we don’t have time for that,” Lance hated how panicked he sounded.

          “We don’t…”

          Shiro was cut off when the wall beside them exploded. Lance threw himself over Keith, not sure if it would even provide any protection. Lance ducked his head, feeling debris fly past him. When he lifted his head, he thought maybe he’d finally gone insane. He looked back down at Keith, still unconscious, then back up at…

          “The Red Lion!” Hunk cried.

          “But who’s piloting?” Lance asked, realizing he was still leaning on Keith. He pushed himself up.

          The red lion crouched down and Allura charged from the mouth, gun blazing, a look of fierce determination etched onto her features. To Lance, she resembled a war goddess, bringing a reckoning upon those who wronged her. She was radiant, and terrifying, and a million other things all at once. Lance was grateful she was on their side as she destroyed half-a-dozen Sentries with one fell swoop.

“Allura!”  
“Lance!” she called, racing across the sand towards him. She slid to a halt on

Her knees beside Lance and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Lance put his head on her shoulder, trying hard not to cry.

          “Keith needs,” Lance started.

          “Yes! Keith,” Allura acknowledged. She reached underneath him and picked him up gently as she carried him over to the red lion. Lance trailed behind while Shiro and Hunk covered their retreat.

          “Now Pidge!” Allura shouted when they reached the lion. The ship shook violently, and alarm sirens began blaring. The ship lurched and shuddered. There was a horrible grinding sound, and the ship lurched again, throwing Lance off his balance. Hunk grabbed his arm and helped steady him.

          “How did Pidge do that?” Lance asked.

          Hunk grinned. “Bombs planted at structure weak points. This ship won’t be operational for several quintants.”

          Hunk helped Lance into the cockpit, where he had to do a double take. Sitting in Keith’s chair was…

          “Coran!” Lance cried. Coran didn’t take his eyes off the screen or hands off the controls, but he smiled at Lance.

          “I can finally follow in Alfor’s footsteps, although, Red is doing most of the work herself.”

          “Coran, this is amazing,” Lance gawked.

          “Oh, it’s nothing my boy,” Coran said, but Lance could see in his eyes he was proud. “Hold on!”

          Coran yanked the controls, guiding Red straight up and blasting through the ship’s wall. He wasn’t as graceful as Keith, but Coran was holding his own as he weaved between Galra ships.

          Pidge joined them from the left in the green lion, whooping and shouting with Hunk about the logistics in where she planted the bombs. She trailed off while listing the damage as she spun around a swarm of Galra fighters. Lance noticed that Pidge didn’t have her cloaking activated, instead opting to destroy as many fighters as she could, giving Coran a straight dash to the castle, which was parked behind a large asteroid, particle barrier activated. Lance didn’t breathe until the red lion was safely in the hanger.

          Allura had handed Keith to Shiro, and she and Coran sprinted to the bridge. Lance tried to follow, but he fell flat on his face. Hunk turned around and helped him up, his features flooded with concern. Lance waved him off. They didn’t need to worry about him. Keith needed help more.

          “Lance, can you program the cryo-pod?” Shiro asked from Red’s mouth. Lance nodded, and with Hunk’s help, followed Shiro to the infirmary.

          Lance injured himself so often, that Coran thought it necessary to show Lance how to program his own pod. Not even Pidge knew how, and it was a small source of pride for Lance.

          Even though Shiro was carrying Keith, who was not light, Lance still had trouble keeping up. Hunk had to slow down several times.

          “Come on. Piggy-back,” Hunk demanded, crouching down. Lance’s face flushed as he jumped on. They hadn’t done this since they were kids. Hunk sprinted after Shiro, jarring Lance with every step. Lance kept his mouth shut and grit his teeth. He would be fine, besides, he didn’t even know if he could go in a pod with the prosthetic.

          Hunk set Lance down when they reached the infirmary and helped Shiro strip off Keith’s armour and put him in the pod. Lance programmed the settings, slightly different than his own for Keith, and activated it. They hadn’t bothered with the cryo-suit. There wasn’t any time. Lance guessed it had been about twenty minutes since the blade had been pulled out and Keith’s wound had been bleeding. He would likely need a blood transfusion when he did come out of the pod. The cry-pods could do a lot, but they couldn’t replace blood, or limbs.

          Lance double checked the program before slumping against the console, completely spent. All he wanted right now was a nap. Shiro knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand of Lance’s shoulder.

          “Let’s get you into a pod too, okay?” Shiro’s voice was gentle, but Lance still shrunk away.

          “No, I’ll be fine.”

          “Lance, come on.”

          “No.”

          Shiro furrowed his brow. “Lance, what’s wrong?”

          Lance didn’t say anything, instead pulling the armour off his leg, revealing the prosthetic. Shiro sucked in a breath, and Hunk put a hand to his mouth.

          “Oh Lance, oh God, Lance,” Hunk stuttered.

          “I don’t know how it will react to the pod,” Lance confessed.

          Shiro glanced at Keith’s pod, then at Lance, as though he was contemplating something. Shiro seemed to come to a conclusion, because he reached around Lance and picked him up, the way he had with Keith. Lance was too tired to argue. Shiro carried him to a cot on the other side of the infirmary. With Shiro’s help, Lance took the rest of the armour off. Shiro didn’t say a word the whole time. He cleaned the cut on the back of Lance’s knee and rebandaged it. He put salve on the burn, and cleaned out all his other cuts.

          “I’m no doctor, my only first aid training was the mandatory courses at the Garrison,” Shiro admitted while he bandaged a large cut on Lance’s shoulder that he didn’t even remember getting. Hunk stood off to the side, handing Shiro whatever he needed, but keeping his distance, giving Shiro space. “There. Good as new.” Shiro smiled.

          Lance tried to smile back, but he felt his head dip down. Hunk stepped in to catch him. “Let’s get you to your room,” he said. Lance shook his head.

          “Be here, when Keith…” Hunk and Shiro nodded.

          “I’ll be right back,” Hunk said, leaving the infirmary. Shiro sat on the cot beside Lance, and Lance leaned his head on his shoulder. Shiro put his arm around him. They sat like that for a few minutes before Lance broke the silence.

          “Shiro, when the Galra took your arm, did you feel,” Lance paused, looking at Shiro, “broken?”

          Shiro took a deep breath. “Yes. I thought I would never be whole again. It hurt, and it still does. I can’t feel the grass, I can’t feel the water, but Lance,” Shiro leaned back so that he could fully see Lance, “Sendak said this arm was the strongest part of me, and he was right. Not because of the Galra, because I made it.”

          Shiro pulled Lance back to his shoulder. “You’re strong Lance, and we’ll figure this out, together.”

          Hunk chose that moment to re-enter to the infirmary.

          “Oh you guys are gonna make me cry,” hesniveledd. He dropped a pile of pillows and blankets in front of Keith’s pod. Shiro helped Lance down off the cot, and he settled himself in the pile, taking comfort in his family’s presence. He barely noticed when Coran, Allura, and Pidge joined them as he dozed off, feeling safe for the first time in days.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that on that on that! The final chapter! Thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. This project really got away from me, but the response from you guys was incredible :) Thank you so much for going on this wonderful, angst-filled adventure with me

Keith awoke to the hiss of a cryopod opening. He felt his body fall forward against his will, and into several sets of warm arms. He shivered, feeling the cold of the cryopod all the way to his bones. A blanket was wrapped around him. The arms set him down in a nest of blankets and pillows that must’ve been laid out in front of the pod.

          “Easy now number four,” Keith heard Coran say. “Just the cryro-sickness. You’ll be right in a tick.”

          Keith opened his eyes, his vision still blurry. He glanced around and saw Coran on his left, and Shiro on his right. He didn’t see Lance. Panic began to set in. He pushed away from Coran and Shiro.

          “Lance, where is Lance?” Keith demanded, struggling to move his stiff limbs. “Where is he? I need,” his voice broke, “I need to know he’s okay.”

          “Keith?”

          “Lance.” Keith searched for Lance’s voice and saw him sitting on a pillow, legs stretched out in front of him, both covered by a blanket. “You’re okay.”

          “Yeah.” Lance smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

          Keith looked around. He saw Hunk, Pidge, and Allura standing around them. Allura had an arm around Pidge, and Hunk was wringing his hands, but he was grinning.

          “Do they know?” Keith whispered to Lance. Lance nodded, and pulled the blanket off. Lance had put his jeans back on, but Keith could see the prosthetic foot.  

          “I know what everybody needs,” Allura clapped her hands together. “Hot chocolate! Hunk, if you will accompany me to the kitchen.”

          Hunk’s eyes widened. He looked terrified. Allura was known to be, not the greatest cook. “Uh…”

          “Perhaps I better come with you as well. Shiro, Pidge, why don’t you join us?”

          Pidge’s protest died on her lips when Allura pulled her out of the infirmary, leaving Keith and Lance alone. Keith almost wanted to call Shiro back, not because he didn’t want to be with Lance, but because last time they were alone, Lance had been captured and tortured and…

          “Does it hurt?” Keith asked. Lance offered a weak smile.

          “Nah.” Keith glared at him. “Okay, yeah, I can barely walk. I still have to get used to this stupid thing, and, it hurts.” Lance drew a shaky breath. “I don’t know how Shiro did it.”

          “Honestly, I don’t either, but I know you’ll be okay. You’re resilient, and brave, and one of the strongest people I know. You saved me so many times, Lance.”

          “We saved each other.” Lance held out his hand, and Keith clasped it. “Keith?”

          “Hm?”

          Lance let go, and rested his head on Keith’s shoulder. Keith didn’t tense up at all.

          “What if I can’t pilot Blue anymore? If I’m not a paladin, what am I?”

          Keith straightened his back so Lance would have to look at him. “You are more than just a paladin, alright? You’re our friend, Lance. That being said,” Keith paused. “Blue is your lion, and you’re still you, no matter what happened. Let’s go see her.”

          “Now?”

          “Yeah. Right now. Come on.”

          Keith stood up and offered Lance his hand to pull him to his feet. Together, what a pair they made, they hobbled down the hall to blue’s hanger. The closer they got, the quicker Lance’s step was, and the more confidently they walked. They opted to walk the length down the corridor instead of taking the zipline. Lance was still too weak for that kind of physical strain. When they finally reached the hangar and opened the door, Keith wanted to cover his ears. Blue roared so loud he was sure everyone in the castle heard it. The floor shook as Blue bounded toward Lance. She crouched down, and Lance put his hand on her nose. His eyes were closed, and Keith took a step back, giving them this moment. Neither of them noticed when Coran, Allura, Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro entered the hangar. Shiro wrapped an arm around Keith. They watched as Lance’s face relaxed, and he pressed his head to Blue’s. Keith didn’t know if giant robot cats could purr, but that’s what it certainly sounded like to him.

          “He’s alright?” Allura asked, her voice soft.

          “Yeah,” Keith answered. “We’re going to be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think :)


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